Justice and Mercy
by SilvorMoon
Summary: When a storm blows in a stranger with no memory of his past and nowhere to go, it seems only natural that Atsushi should let him stay in his inn. But this stranger brings with him disturbing dreams and death omens, and soon Atsushi's life becomes so complicated that even the gods themselves have no idea how it will turn out.
1. Room at the Inn

Some people said that when the worst happened, the bottom dropped out of their world. For Arima, it was the roof.

Up until that point, he had been as content as it was possible for a human being to be. He'd been in the sanctuary, kneeling before the altar and meditating on the glorious mysteries of his chosen god. The air was heavy with the scents of incense, flowers, and ancient secrets. The sanctuary was empty save for him, and he relished the sense of being alone in this sacred place, absorbing the warmth of the sun as it slanted through the magnificent stained-glass windows, creating rays of light as brilliant as the god's own arrows. When they fell across his shoulders, he could imagine that it warmth of a divine blessing.

 _Great Lord Aurite, lead me on your paths. Bless me with your guidance. Grant me the wisdom to know your will, and the strength to uphold it..._

The litany was a familiar one. He'd read it aloud a thousand times, and repeated it silently thousands more. After all, Arima was the high priest of Aurite, god of law and order, and he would be a poor servant if he didn't have every detail of the worship service memorized by heart. Now he finished the last of the familiar words, but lingered, still kneeling, looking up at the golden statue of the being who commanded his utmost devotion.

Years ago, he had been nobody. His family had despaired of him, considering him to be too pliant, too lacking in ambition to ever make anything of himself. He'd never let that idea bother him. He had never seen any reason to make waves in the world. He was happy being told what to do and following orders. Following the rules made society function. Why go against the grain? It wasn't as if the rules were put there arbitrarily. You sowed your seeds in the spring and harvested the fruits in the fall because that was the way nature worked, and trying to assert yourself to do things any other way would leave you with nothing for your efforts. That was his philosophy, and it had served him well thus far.

It had been early in the morning when his life had changed forever, and he'd been out in his garden, pulling weeds and thinking about which vegetables would be ready to harvest soon, when a blaze of golden light had dazzled him, and he had looked up to find the source of the glare.

Afterwards, he couldn't have said what he had seen. He had been overwhelmed by the sheer presence of the person regarding him. It had filled him with the sense that he was utterly insignificant, the merest insect who would live and die in the blink of an eye without leaving more than a faint trace of his passing, and that this being was so much older and more powerful than he was that he could never even begin to comprehend it. At the same time, he felt the thrilling knowledge that of all the people in the world, this glorious being had chosen to notice _him_.

And then the god reached out and laid a hand on Arima's shoulder.

 _I am Aurite, god of law and order, and I have found you worthy. From here on in, you will be my servant, favored by me above all other mortals._

The words had filled Arima with a piercing joy that left him trembling. From that moment on, he had devoted his life to the service of his god, and had been blissfully happy in that pursuit. Three times since then, Aurite had visited him again - twice to issue commands, once to commend him on his handling of a particularly delicate problem. Arima had walked on air for weeks after that encounter, and lived in anticipation that he might again someday earn a few words of praise from his idol. He had believed from that first miraculous moment that as long as he was pursuing Aurite's goals, there was nothing in the world that could make him unhappy.

All that changed when he heard the crash. Arima's head snapped up, and he stared at the hole that had just opened up in the ceiling above him, taking a portion of the overhead arches with it. Dust and roofing tiles rained down on the pews and shattered in the aisles. The roaring continued, as something massive rolled all the way down the temple's sloping roof to finally crash into the street below. Screams of fright rang out.

Arima surged to his feet and raced down the aisle, stumbling over the debris as his mind whirled. What he found outside was worse than he could have imagined. The entire bell tower had come loose from its moorings and fallen, going in seconds from a marvel of architectural beauty to a splintered mess. He stared at it. He had been in that bell tower only that morning, ringing the bell that called the faithful to morning rituals. It had been whole and sound then, without any sign of wear or weakness. There had been no wind, no tremor in the earth, absolutely nothing to explain why a large chunk of his temple should suddenly decide to fall off. Strangest of all, the bell itself - a beautiful thing, plated in gold and ornamented with sacred symbols - had shattered like glass. Looking at it made Arima's stomach turn over.

 _Something is very, very wrong,_ he thought.

White-faced and shaking, he walked back into the temple.

* * *

Atsushi peered morosely out the window and sighed.

"It's supposed to be spring," he complained to the world in general.

The world ignored him. Rain continued to lash at his window, spattering in great fat drops that almost completely obscured his view. The sky outside was so dark it was nearly black, even though it was mid-afternoon, and the streets of the town looked more like rivers. Despite the fact that it was, as Atsushi had said, spring, the wind that was just now howling around his home had an icy bite to it.

And he still had to go out into it.

Resignedly, Atsushi turned away from his contemplation of the window and unhooked his cloak from the coat rack. With the hood pulled low over his face and the cloak wrapped tightly around himself, he took one last breath of warm, dry air before opening the front door. A blast of wind nearly blew him back inside, but he gritted his teeth and stomped his way out into the storm. Rain or no rain, he still planned to do some business at some point this week, and for that, he needed to go shopping.

It was as bad as it looked outside. Within minutes, Atsushi was shivering as the wind found every gap in his clothing. The puddles were three inches deep in places, and even his best boots couldn't keep all the water out. As he trudged through the mud and gloom, he scolded himself for waiting so long to do the shopping. Yes, there were good reasons why he'd let his provisions drop so low - he'd recently had a large party check into his inn, and they had both eaten heartily and kept him too busy to go off and restock - but at the moment he felt that nothing excused putting himself through this.

Still, at least with this sort of weather he could expect that not too many people would be dropping by for a drink. No one with any sense would be traveling today, and his local customers would probably be content to sit and warm themselves by the fire until he came back if they dared to show up at all. His inn would be fine without him for a little while.

All the same, he had plenty of incentive to get his work done as quickly as possible. He made stops at the butcher's, the baker's, the greengrocer's, and a few other places, gradually filling a sack with things he'd need in the coming days. Everyone he spoke to had to comment on the awful weather.

"It's like the gods are angry about something," said the greengrocer's wife, casting an anxious glance at the carving above her shop door. It depicted Pearlite, the god of springtime and beauty. Anyone whose livelihood was based on growing things tended to generally kept a shrine to him somewhere in their home or workplace. He was one of the more popular gods, but not one of those known for his fairness or good temper.

"If that's so," said Atsushi, "I hope they calm down soon."

The woman nodded in solemn agreement. "It's never good when the gods are angry. It's always us little people who suffer."

That was an ominous note to end a conversation on, and Atsushi felt a little chill crawl down his spine that had nothing to do with the weather outside as he started for the door. Still, that had been the last stop on his grocery list, and he could now go straight home to where it was warm and dry. Keeping that thought firmly in mind, he opened the door and began the long slog home.

If anything, the weather had only worsened while he'd been out shopping. The sun had started to set, making the world colder and darker than ever. Thunder rumbled, and the occasional fork of lighting flashed overhead. It really did feel like some supernatural force was bearing down on the little town. Atsushi tried to ignore the thought. Binan was a peaceful town full of ordinary people who generally tried to keep out of the gods' way. Why would anything here draw their attention? No, this had to be just the last of the winter storms blowing itself out before spring settled in for good.

Even as he was thinking that, Atsushi was struck in the face by a blast of wind and icy water, and he reeled backwards, trying to protect his face with the arm that wasn't occupied by carrying his sack of groceries. The wind continued to howl around him with a ferocity that nearly blew him off his feet. Casting around for shelter, he saw a narrow alley between two nearby buildings. At least there, he thought, he could get away from the wind for a little while. He splashed towards it through the puddles and dove into its shelter.

It was, as he'd hoped, a little better there - not much dryer, but at least the wind couldn't reach it easily, which made it a little warmer. Atsushi pressed himself into the meager shelter of a bit of overhanging roof and set about trying to wring some of the water out of his sleeves. It was a losing battle.

"When I get home," he muttered, "I am going to wrap up in a blanket and sit in front of the fire for a week."

As if in response to his complaint, a bolt of lightning flashed overhead, making him jump. For an instant, the alley was flooded with brilliant blue-white light, and that instant was just enough for Atsushi to realize that he wasn't alone. What he had taken to be a pile of garbage, he realized now, was a human figure lying sprawled on the ground. Atsushi exclaimed and dropped his bag to rush over to the fallen stranger's side.

"Hey," he called, shaking the figure's shoulder gently. "Are you all right? Can you hear me?"

The form - a man, he realized - twitched a little, making a feeble effort to get up before collapsing again. Atsushi's mind was made up in an instant. Very carefully, he levered the stranger off the ground and pulled him into a standing position. The stranger could barely keep himself on his feet, and leaned most of his weight on Atsushi, but he was so emaciated that he seemed to weigh less than Atsushi's sack of groceries. With one hand carrying his things and the other arm wrapped around the stranger, Atsushi began walking slowly back towards the road.

"Hold on," he told his new friend. "I'll get you somewhere safe. Just hang on."

They made their slow, shuffling way up the street, while the rain fell in a silver curtain around them. It was a good thing Atsushi knew the way home so well, because between the storm and the gathering dusk, it was impossible to see more than a few feet in any direction. Still, Atsushi staggered grimly onward, breathing heavily from the exertion, until at last they reached the front door of his inn. With a sigh of relief, he shoved the door open and hauled his burdens inside.

He was relieved to see that the inn's public room was still empty. Clearly, no one was going out on a day like this if they didn't have to. That left him free to devote all his attention to his companion. He dumped his sack on the floor to deal with later, and instead focused his attention to guiding the man over to the fireplace. At least the rain hadn't gotten down the chimney enough to put the fire out, so it was still going strong. Atsushi gently nudged his new friend into the chair nearest the fire. Only then did he stop to take a good look at the person he'd rescued.

It was, as he'd guessed before, a young man, probably about his own age. He was filthy and half-starved, dressed in dark rags that might have been blue or black before the elements had gotten hold of them. His skin was very pale, and his hair looked as though it might be some pale color as well, though it was so matted with mud and rainwater that it was hard to be sure. His eyes were closed, and he took rapid, shallow breaths.

"Hey," said Atsushi. "Are you okay?"

"Mm," said the man weakly. "I'm cold."

"Just relax," said Atsushi. "I'll get you warmed up in no time."

He added a few more logs to the fire and stirred it until it blazed. Then he went to fetch some spare blankets. When he came back, his new friend had pulled his chair up close to the fire and was holding his hands as close to the flames as he could come without scorching them.

"Here," said Atsushi, tucking the blanket gently around him. "Are you starting to feel better?"

"A little," the stranger admitted. He turned to face Atsushi. His eyes were very green in his pale face. "You didn't have to do this to me. I don't have any way to repay you..."

Atsushi shook his head. "I didn't help you because I expected to be paid. I did it because you needed help."

The man turned back to the fire. "You're very kind."

"Not really," said Atsushi. "So, what happened? Can you tell me?"

The stranger frowned. "I don't know. I can't seem to remember."

"You can't remember?" Atsushi repeated.

"No," said the stranger. "It's all a blank." His face creased in concentration. "I think someone was angry at me... Yes, I believe that's right. I don't remember what it was, only that they said they had to punish me, and the next thing I knew..." He held up his hands helplessly. "I was on the ground."

Atsushi frowned. Part of him insisted that it was dangerous for him to let a stranger like this into his home. Binan was a small town, and he knew everyone in it, and he couldn't even think of someone who had a family resemblance to this person. What had he done that was so wrong that he'd ended up like this? Everything Atsushi knew said he ought to turn this man over to the town watch and let them deal with him. At the same time, Atsushi's native compassion was telling him that he couldn't possibly turn away from someone who was so obviously in need. Whoever this man was, he was cold and hungry and wet and possibly injured. He needed help.

"Do you know your name?" he asked.

That question apparently required less thought.

"I think it's Kinshiro," the stranger answered.

Atsushi smiled. "That's a good name. I'm Atsushi."

The stranger smiled slightly. "Just what I needed."

Atsushi laughed in spite of himself. His name meant "warm", and warmth was certainly just what anyone would need on a day like today.

"Glad to be of service," he said. "Listen, Kinshiro, do you want to stay here for a while? I have lots of room."

Kinshiro's expression closed. "I don't want to be a burden. If you don't mind, I'll just sit by your fire until this rain lets up, and then I'll be on my way."

"To where?" asked Atsushi skeptically.

Kinshiro didn't answer. What could he say? He could barely even walk in the state he was in. Even if he had somewhere to go, he was in no shape to travel.

"Look," said Atsushi. "I've been trying to run this inn by myself, but it's really too much for one person alone. If you don't mind hard work, you can have one of the rooms upstairs in exchange for your help. You can at least stay long enough to get your strength back and maybe earn a little traveling money. You can leave once you have a better idea where it is you want to go. Does that sound fair?"

Kinshiro thought about this for a moment, then slowly nodded.

"It sounds fair," he agreed solemnly. "And I don't see myself getting any better offers."

Atsushi beamed. "Good. Then let's start by getting you cleaned up. I'll start getting a bath ready. Are you hungry? Wait, that was a silly question, of course you're hungry. Let me get you something to eat first...

"You don't have to go so much trouble..." Kinshiro began, but his expression made it clear that he had already realized it was no good to fight. Atsushi just smiled at him.

"Welcome to the Cloverleaf Inn," he said.

 **To Be Continued...**


	2. Omens

It was very quiet in Arima's room.

It was usually quiet in his room. He was not, by nature, a noisy person, and generally used his rooms only for sleeping, for reading, and for meditation. This afternoon, however, had been devoted to an entirely different set of pursuits. His entire day had been spent desperately seeking some answer to the disaster that had struck his temple. It was the bell that was bothering him the most - the metal it was made from should have dented or perhaps broken into a few large pieces, but not shattered into tiny splinters. Something supernatural was at work here, and he needed to know what it was. Even more chilling, he had called on Aurite for answers, and there had been nothing, and that was wrong, too. Usually when he prayed to his god, he at least received _some_ acknowledgment, even if it was only a brief sense of the god's presence. Today, he had called, and gotten... nothing, only a sense of aching absence. Or... not absence, exactly. Distance, as if a barrier had been placed between the two of them. Becoming frantic, Arima had tried every scrying, every augury he knew of, and had gotten no clear answers from any of them. Now, worried, heartsick, and thoroughly exhausted, Arima had fallen asleep.

In his dream, Arima found himself back in his old hometown. He was walking through the town's marketplace, trying to prepare for the spring planting season, but for some reason, every shop he went to had run out of the things he needed. He wandered from shop to shop, growing increasingly more frustrated as he searched for someone who might have seeds and trowels and watering cans and getting nothing but negative answers.

"Where can I find what I'm looking for?" he demanded of the world in general.

A voice behind him said, "Up there."

Arima turned to see a man standing behind him, shaggy-haired and sleepy eyed. He was pointing up at a mountain in the distance, which was strange, because Arima had never noticed a mountain near his home before. But there it was, looming over the town, and now that he looked, Arima could even see that there was a small village nestled against its flank.

"What is that place?" he asked.

"It's called Binan," said the man. "You'll find what you're looking for in Binan."

Then there was a rumbling, and Arima realized that the bell tower was about to fall again. He looked around frantically, trying to find it, hoping this time he could stop it, but...

 _Crash._

Arima sat up with a jolt and looked wildly around his room. A scrap of paper clung to his cheek for a moment before fluttering back down to the floor. Awareness slowly crept over him: he had been sitting at his desk, scouring his books and notes for some solution, some hint of what to do next, and he had fallen asleep. The crash that had awakened him had been his glass scrying bowl falling off the table. He must have twitched in his sleep and knocked it over. Automatically, he moved to begin cleaning up the shattered pieces.

"Where is that broom?" he asked himself.

And that was when it clicked. Binan. He had dreamed that he would find what he was looking for in a village called Binan on the side of a mountain. Broken glass forgotten, he scampered across the room to his bookshelf and began scanning titles until he found the one he wanted, a fat book on the geography and politics of the kingdom and its nearest neighbors. With shaking hands, he leafed eagerly through its pages. Of course, it might have just been a dream. He might have only been straining so hard for an answer that he had dreamed up a town that didn't exist. He was sure he had never heard of a place called Binan...

But there it was. Buried somewhere in the maps of the western mountains was a tiny dot labeled Binan. He stared at it as if it were a divine revelation. Perhaps it was. The gentle god of dreams had been known to drop hints in the paths of mortals when he felt they deserved it.

Well, then, so be it. He had to know what was wrong with his lord and master. He needed answers. Arima, it seemed, was going to Binan.

* * *

The inside and the outside of Kinshiro's mind were at odds with each other.

The inside of his mind was full of cold and pain and fear. He'd told Atsushi that he thought he had angered someone, and his shaky memory told him that this was definitely the case. He had a sense of someone or something looming over him, someone so powerful that they had left him trembling in awe. He had done something to anger this person, he was sure of it, and they had... what? No matter how he pummeled his brain, it simply refused to give him the answer. He had only a sense of dread, of watching his doom descend upon him and having no way to escape or defend himself.

No, not just fear. There was anger there, too, and righteous indignation. Whatever had happened to him, there was a lingering sense that he hadn't deserved such treatment, and he'd been furious at being punished so harshly and so unfairly.

 _Did I anger a god?_ Unlikely, but possible. There were, after all, a fair number of gods, and many of them were known to be capricious or downright vindictive, while others were so mysterious that it was impossible to guess what would set them off. Any one of them could have stripped him of his memories and dumped him in this place. If that was the case, he would have to be careful. There was no telling if the god in question, having given vent to his or her anger, had moved on to other things, or if they were still watching to see what he would do next.

Even if he hadn't managed to incur the wrath of the divine - even if his sense of offending some great and terrible being was only a fever dream caused by whatever injury or illness had taken his memory - he was still in bad shape. His body was so weak he could barely stand, he had spent most of his time since waking filthy and hungry, and he had no money. He had only the vaguest idea of who he was. He had no doubt that if Atsushi hadn't come along when he had, he'd have died out in that storm, done in by exhaustion and cold.

And therein lay the source of the odd contrast he was feeling. While his mind might be full of turmoil, his surroundings were wonderfully peaceful. He was still sitting as close to the fire as he could get without actually setting himself ablaze, but now his soaked and filthy clothes had been taken away and replaced with clean dry things from Atsushi's own wardrobe, and there was a thick patchwork quilt wrapped around him. While he'd sat and thawed himself, Atsushi had bustled off to the kitchen, where it turned out there was food waiting. It was only a stew made of the last of the week's leftovers, left to simmer over the kitchen fire all morning, but it was thick and hot and perfectly seasoned. Once that was ready, Atsushi had spent his time alternating between filling a tub with hot water for a bath and coaxing as much hot food into Kinshiro as he could hold. Kinshiro had been left protesting that really, he wasn't worth all this fuss, but Atsushi was clearly not going to listen. If Kinshiro were being truthful, he'd have to admit that he didn't really have the strength to put up a fight.

But now he was clean and fed and warmed through, and Atsushi was showing him up the stairs to the second floor. Kinshiro was feeling recovered enough to appreciate the place now. It was an old building, and had seen better days, but it was scrupulously clean and comfortably if somewhat shabbily furnished. In a way, that seemed like a good thing. Kinshiro had a bit of pride left from whatever his life had been before, and he would have balked at being offered luxury that he couldn't hope to ever repay. This suited him better. It was a good place, he thought, for someone who was down on his luck.

"I'm sorry it's so small," said Atsushi, "but I think it will do for the short term. Just let me know if there's anything you need."

Kinshiro took a few careful steps into the room and examined it. It matched the rest of the building: worn wood floors softened by a rag rug, a small fireplace where a cheerful fire had been laid, a low bed with several mismatched quilts thrown over it, a wardrobe, a footlocker, and a small night stand with a washbasin and a lamp resting on it. The walls had been whitewashed and hung with a few small ornaments - a bit of embroidery in a hoop, a carved wood panel illustrating an old legend, a wreath of dried flowers. As luxury went, it wasn't much, but Kinshiro didn't care about that. All that mattered to him was that the fire was lit and the bed looked soft, and there was a warming pan tucked under the blankets. Clearly his host had done everything possible to make sure he was comfortable here.

"This will be entirely satisfactory," he said.

Atsushi beamed.

"Glad to hear it," he said. "Now get some rest. We'll figure everything else out in the morning. Goodnight, Kinshiro."

"Goodnight, Atsushi," said Kinshiro solemnly.

Atsushi slipped out of the room, gently closing the door behind himself. Kinshiro sat down on the edge of the bed but did not lie down. Instead, he took a moment to look around his new room and take stock of his situation. Things were not, he concluded, as bad as they might have been. He was truly lucky to have met Atsushi, who not only had an inn with spare rooms and food for guests, but who also appeared to be a very kind and caring person.

 _Maybe I'll like it here,_ he thought.

Not that he was planning on staying here. No matter how kind Atsushi was, he wasn't going to want a freeloader living with him forever. Kinshiro was going to have to get well quickly and start working to save up some money so he could get out on his own. Not that he had any clear ideas what he was going to do when he left. If he had any useful skills, he'd forgotten them with everything else. Perhaps, he thought, he could learn something practical while he was helping Atsushi here at the inn. He hoped so. He truly hated the idea of being useless.

With a sigh, he settled into his bed and reached for the lamp to put out the light. Then he paused, considering it. The lamp stand was fashioned with the figures of three men standing around it, their outstretched palms touching. Kinshiro recognized the design, even if he couldn't have said where he knew it from. It represented three gods: Pearlite, god of beauty, springtime, and new beginnings; Vesta, god of romantic love and sexuality; and Sulfur, god of wealth and ruler of the Blessed Dead. The three of them were consorts, and were often depicted together this way, standing together in a circle to represent birth, life, death, and rebirth in an eternal cycle. Kinshiro turned the stand slightly so that he was looking at the figure of Pearlite, his long hair spilling down his back and his body draped in wreaths of flowers.

"I don't get any choice in starting over," Kinshiro murmured aloud, "but if I must start over, I want my new life to be a good one."

It wasn't much of a prayer, but he kept his eyes focused on the figure the whole time he spoke, and he meant every word he said. Maybe that was enough. It might have just been his tired eyes that made him think the lamp glowed a little more brightly for a moment. It had to be only the warmth of the fire releasing the scent of the dried wreath over the mantle that made Kinshiro think for a moment that he was smelling fresh flowers. But then again, maybe it wasn't. That was an encouraging thought, and he let himself linger over it as he drifted off into sleep.

* * *

Atsushi awoke the next morning in an oddly unsettled mood.

It wan't that he was regretting taking in a stranger. His whole life from the moment he'd been born had been centered on learning to run the inn, and that meant learning to take care of people. It came naturally to him. He took pleasure in welcoming people from faraway places and making them feel that they'd found a home away from home. The fact that this new guest had clearly been having a rougher time than most only made him more certain that he'd done the right thing in taking him in. Besides, Atsushi hadn't been lying when he'd said he could use some help. An inn like this one had never been meant to be run by just one man alone, no matter how suited for the job he was. He'd actually gone to bed in a good mood the previous night, feeling secure in the knowledge that he'd done a good deed.

And then he'd promptly fallen into nightmares.

In his dream, he'd been sitting in a courtroom, some vast and gloomy place full of whispers and tense rustlings. He was sitting in a stand against the wall with a crowd of somber onlookers, watching as the judgements unfolded in front of him, and when he tried to move for a better look, he found that his body would not obey him, even to let him speak. All he could do was sit and watch as the judge handed down sentence after sentence. And sentences there were - one after another, the convicted stood forth and explained their crimes. A woman who had endured years of her husband's verbal abuse had finally struck him with a heavy iron pan and broken his skull. An old woman, without family to care for her and too frail to work, had stolen a loaf of bread. A little boy with a sick mother had climbed through the window of an apothecary's shop to steal medicine for her. A young woman, forced into a marriage with a rich man she despised, had succumbed to temptation and had an affair with a lover. In each case, the transgressor would try to explain and defend themselves, and would beg for lenience.

It was clear, however, that no lenience was forthcoming. If Atsushi twisted in his seat as far as the invisible bonds holding him would allow, he could just make out the of the judge in his tall chair. He was dressed all in black, and the judge's bench was recessed into the shadows, so that he was little more than a vague and distant shape. He sat perfectly still the entire time, listening impassively to whatever the speakers were saying, then flatly handing down judgement.

"You don't understand," a tearful woman said. "I didn't want to go to bed with him. I told him over and over that I only care for my husband."

"But you did go to his bed in the end," said the judge coolly. "You broke your wedding vows."

"Because I had no choice!" she insisted. "He told me that if I didn't do as I said, he'd frame my husband for stealing. He'd have been sent to prison. We'd have lost everything..."

"When you were married, you swore to be faithful to your husband, in the difficult times as well as the good. There is no excuse for breaking your vows," said the judge implacably. "You will be given the same punishment as anyone else. That is fair. As for your husband's employer, what he was doing was wrong, and he would have been judged by the gods in due time. You should have trusted in their wisdom, rather than taking matters into your own hands."

The woman gave a heartbroken wail as several armored guards dragged her away. Atsushi felt his stomach clench. This wasn't right, it wasn't fair. He wished he could help the poor woman - help all of these people. Even if they had broken some law, surely there could be some exceptions made for extenuating circumstances. It couldn't do any harm to show these people some mercy...

Then the judge had stood up, and the darkness around him seemed to fall away, replaced by dazzling light. Atsushi had shied away, unable to look at the sudden brilliance...

And that was where he'd awakened, with his heart still pounding and palms sweating.

 _What was that all about?_ he wondered. He could still hear the woman's voice pleading, and see the tear-streaked faces of those being led off to their doom. It wasn't a good omen to wake up to. He had a vague notion that it was more than just a dream. It had been far too real for that, and too strange. Usually when he dreamed, it was of fairly simple things - of daily life around the town, of working at his inn, of memories from his childhood. He didn't usually dream about gods.

And that was certainly what he'd been seeing. That blaze of light could be nothing but the radiant aura of a divine being, and he could easily guess which one. That could only have been Aurite, god of law and justice. Not the friendliest god in the pantheon, but he was still important in the overall workings of the universe. It was his job to judge humanity and to ensure that the wicked received their comeuppance and the just were rewarded in a time and manner suited to their behavior. When someone died, it was up to him to decide which afterlife they were destined for - to the land of the Accursed Dead, where the unrepentant wicked endured eternal punishment, to the land of the Restful Dead, where those who were neither particularly good nor especially bad could go on living in peace and contentment, to the land of the Blessed Dead, where the truly good and heroic lived in eternal splendor, or perhaps even to become one of the favored few who were specially favored by the gods and permitted to live with them in the heavenly city. He was supposed to be absolutely fair, incorruptible, unmoved by flattery, bribery, or personal feelings. Atsushi had always assumed that was a good thing, but now he wondered.

 _It's no good second-guessing the gods,_ he told himself sternly. _Anyway, it was a dream. It wasn't real._

He washed and dressed quickly, trying to put the vision behind him as quickly as possible. On his way down to the kitchen, he peered into Kinshiro's room and found him still out cold. He looked better this morning, though - his face no longer looked as hollow and exhausted as it had the night before, and a trace of color had come back to his fair skin. The morning sunlight slanting through his window made his hair gleam like newly minted silver. Astushi smiled, feeling his malaise melting away.

 _I'll let him sleep a while longer,_ he decided. No point in waking him before breakfast was ready.

Atsushi ambled downstairs and immediately started for the kitchen. Cooking was always the first thing he had to do - not only to make his own breakfast, but to make sure there would be food ready when the lunch crowd started showing up. He normally didn't get a lot of customers first thing in the morning, so that was the best time for him to take care of things like starting the day's roasting and baking, and to do any cleaning that hadn't been finished the night before. He hummed a little as he began rattling pots and pans around, planning what he'd cook that day. Usually he put on a bit of porridge for himself to cook slowly overnight, but with the arrival of his unexpected guest, he hadn't gotten around to it. It would have to be eggs and bacon.

A few minutes later, he had a tray filled with scrambled eggs, bacon, and fried bread, along with a pot of strong tea. As he started upstairs, tray balanced expertly on one hand, he paused to touch the little statue of the god Sulfur that stood on his mantlepiece. Like many gods, he had more than one aspect. Sometimes he was an underworld god, lord of the Blessed Dead, but this statuette's robes had been painted yellow, making it clear that he was here in his aspect as the god of wealth, master of every gem and precious stone that lay beneath the earth. Some people said that the treasure humans were lucky enough to find were no more than the street-sweepings and castoffs of the land of the Blessed Dead, who lived in luxury that exceeded anything anyone on the mortal plains had ever come close to achieving. Most business people kept a statue like this somewhere in their shop in hopes of bringing in a little monetary luck.

"We didn't make any money yesterday," he told the statue, "so let's have a good day today, okay?"

"I'll see what I can do," said a voice.

Atsushi whirled and dropped his tray. Eggs and tea splashed in all directions.

"Please don't do that," the voice said. "I hate wastefulness."

Atsushi just stared. A young man - or something that looked very like a young man - was standing in the middle of his common room. He had sharp, clever features and straight golden hair, and looked altogether too much like the statuette for Atsushi's peace of mind. The only major difference was that the statue was dressed in cloth-of-gold, with coins and jewels piled around his feet. This man was dressed in a somber black robe, so dark that it baffled the eye. This was Sulfur, certainly, but he was here in his aspect as a god of death.

"Here," he said. "Let me help you with that."

He made a quick gesture, and Atsushi watched in amazement as the spilled food promptly began cleaning itself up and putting itself back where it had come from. He looked from the tray of now-pristine food to the god and back again.

"There," said Sulfur. "That's much better." He smiled slightly at Atsushi's astonished expression. "Don't worry. I promise everything has been put back just the way it was before you dropped it. It's the least I can do."

"What... It's not that I'm not honored, but..." Atsushi began.

"But why am I here?" Sulfur replied. "Just keeping an eye on things, you might say." He raised his gaze slightly, looking in the direction of Kinshiro's room. "The fact that you've taken a guest in has set some events in motion that promise to have an interesting outcome."

Atsushi felt a chill as he thought of Kinshiro - his strange memory loss, his emaciated body. Was there something badly wrong with him, something that couldn't be seen on the surface?

"I won't let you take him!" said Atsushi. "He's not going to die! I won't let him!"

Sulfur's expression was sympathetic. "Everything mortal dies. It's only a matter of time."

"Well, he's not going to die today," said Atsushi stubbornly. He was trying not to let his emotions show, but in reality, he was terrified. This being could probably kill him with a snap of his fingers if he wanted to. Still, Atsushi had promised to take care of Kinshiro, and he wasn't letting anyone stop him now that he'd made up his mind.

But apparently Sulfur wasn't in a mood to fight. He gave Atsushi an appraising look and nodded.

"You're right about that," he said. "No one is dying today, at least not here." He looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled slightly. "I have a feeling I'm not wanted, so I think I'll take my leave. Good luck with your future endeavors."

And then he was gone, as if he had never been there at all. Atsushi stared a moment, trying to wrap his mind around what he had just seen. Then he shook himself, deciding all at once that it was too strange to even think about.

 _He went away. That's the important thing,_ Atsushi told himself. _Maybe Kinshiro wouldn't have lived if I hadn't found him, but he's going to make it now. I won't let him die._

He made his way up the stairs and found that Kinshiro was starting to stir awake, perhaps lured by the scent of food. Atsushi felt some of his fears drain away. He was clearly getting his strength back. He would be just fine.

"Hey. Did I wake you?" Astushi asked. "I brought breakfast."

"You didn't have to do that," said Kinshiro, but his eyes were tracking the tray with the avidity of one who has already missed too many meals.

"I thought it would be a nice way to start your first day here," said Atsushi. "We'll go back to the regular way of things tomorrow. Here." He set the tray down on the bedside table and pulled up a chair so he could sit next to Kinshiro while they ate. He began passing dishes to his guest, who took them with solemn politeness.

 _Wherever he came from, he's not your run-of-the-mill farmer or merchant,_ Atsushi decided. Kinshiro might not remember where he came from, but his manner was too well-bred to be anything but wealthy, maybe even noble. Surely those slender hands had never been put to work tilling soil or washing plates. Perhaps he or his family had made enemies, and that was what had led him to end up in such dire straits.

Did that mean someone was going to come looking for him soon? Surely no one from an upper-crust background could simply disappear without someone realizing it. If that was so, then Kinshiro was in the best possible place. There were few locales in any city that picked up more gossip than the common room of an inn. In time, someone would eventually mention an important family missing a son. Maybe someone would even recognize him. Surely it wouldn't be long before Kinshiro's loved ones found him and brought him home.

"What are you thinking?" asked Kinshiro, between bites of bacon.

Atsushi smiled. "I'm thinking how nice it's going to be to have someone else living here for a while. Really living here, I mean, not just staying as a guest."

"This does seem like rather a large job for just one person," Kinshiro observed. "Why is there no one else?"

"Well, there used to be," said Atsushi. "But my parents died in a winter fever, and my sister met a merchant from another city and married him and moved away. Now it's just me, and it really is too much. I wasn't just being charitable when I said I could use your help here."

"I see," said Kinshiro thoughtfully. "What were you considering asking me to do?"

"I thought we'd start with something easy today, since you're not at full strength yet," said Atsushi. "Do you feel up to helping me in the kitchen?"

Kinshiro looked mildly discomfited. "I don't know anything about cooking..."

"You don't need to," Atsushi assured him. "You can wash dishes and chop vegetables. You have no idea how much time it will save me just to have someone else to wash the dishes. And later you can work your way up to sweeping floors, busing tables, cutting wood... there are so many things I can't even think of them all."

"Well," said Kinshiro, looking rather wry, "at least I won't be bored."

"Don't push yourself too hard to start with," Atsushi said hastily. "Right now, focus on getting your strength back."

"You're very kind," Kinshiro murmured. He regarded Atsushi with serious green eyes. "I don't understand why you're going to so much trouble. If you needed a helper, you could have hired someone - someone who is already familiar with this sort of work."

"I could," said Atsushi, "but it would be inefficient."

Kinshiro looked doubtful. "What do you mean?"

"They wouldn't need the work as much as you do," said Atsushi reasonably. "This way I get what I need, and you get what you need, so everyone wins."

Kinshiro stared at him, then began to laugh. It was a rusty sound, as if he had never laughed much even before whatever downfall had struck him, but it was definitely a laugh.

"You are a very strange person," he said. "Maybe I will like it here."

Atsushi was unaccountably pleased. "I'll do my best to make sure of it."

 _And as long as you're here, I'm going to keep you safe._

 **To Be Continued...  
**


	3. Hard Work

It had not been an easy journey.

Arima paused beneath the shade of a particularly large tree and considered his map. He was far, far away from any of his familiar stomping grounds, and was beginning to feel as if he might have made a miscalculation. What had he been thinking, coming this far on the strength of a dream? He couldn't be sure it had been the gods who had sent it to him. He might have only dreamed it because he was so desperate for an answer, any answer, that he had simply conjured one up out of wishful thinking. Probably he had just overheard the name Binan in the marketplace somewhere, or had remembered seeing it on the map, or had simply thrown some syllables together at random and come up with something that actually existed. The only reason he was still going at this point was that he honestly didn't know what else to do.

And he had to do something. The more he traveled, the more certain he was of that.

There was a slight rustling behind him. Arima shifted his grip on his map and turned his head just the slightest bit, so that he could get a clearer view of the shrubbery at the edge of the road. By his best guess, he made it four men lurking there, though it was possible there were more tucked further back in the forest. He doubted that, though. If there were any more, they would probably have been encircling him instead of all huddling behind the same clump of prickly bushes. That was fine. Four men was just about his speed.

"You know," he said aloud, carefully folding his map, "it really would be impolite to ambush me. I'm just pointing that out."

There was another, louder rustling. This one sounded uncertain, as if the men were considering the wisdom of attacking a man who not only knew they were there but didn't seem inclined to shout and run away. Apparently, though, they were either too reckless or too desperate to think very hard about what that meant. Arima sighed.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said to the air in general. "And I'm not actually carrying that much of value. I promise it isn't worth it."

A heavy-jawed man lumbered out of the shadows, followed by several slightly less massive if no more friendly companions. Arima gave a resigned shrug.

"I tried to warn you," he said.

The biggest robber grinned at him, showing crooked yellow teeth, and hefted his cudgel.

"We don't want a fight, pretty boy," he said. "Just hand over your money, and..."

But that was as far as he ever got.

Arima had never been a particularly violent person. Anyone who had known him as a youth would have agreed that he was a singularly peaceable sort who rarely so much as raised his voice. That had been before he'd become a priest of Aruite. In a world where the gods were an active force in the world who might very well decide to drop in on their followers for a cup of tea, being a priest meant more than just leading devotions once a week. Priests had a more direct line than most mortals to the gods they served, one that gave them great power within their sphere of influence.

And Aurite's sphere of influence had always been punishing the wicked.

Within short order, all four ruffians were laid out cold on the ground, and Arima was tying their hands and feet together as securely as he knew how. He wished he hadn't had so much practice at doing this.

"I tried to be fair, you know," he said.

The unconscious thieves didn't say anything. Arima nudged the nearest one with his foot, and, getting no response, shrugged and continued walking up the road. The first time this had happened, he'd written it up as a fluke - just another part of the awfulness of what he'd already realized was going to be an awful week. He'd disabled the thieves as handily as he had this lot and marched them off to the proper authorities to deal with. He'd done the same thing after the second lot, and then the third. After that...

At some point, he'd started to realize what was going on. The world seemed to be going through a universal crime wave, and Arima had a sinking feeling that he knew why. It had always been Aurite's job to keep an eye on humanity and make sure that the wicked were punished and the virtuous rewarded. It might take time, or happen in a roundabout way, and might not happen at all until the humans in question were dead and on their way to their eternal reward. Most of the time, though, you could rest assured that if someone did something wrong, Aurite would be behind the scenes, throwing obstacles in their paths and making sure that they didn't enjoy the fruits of their wrongdoings as much as they thought they would.

Only now, apparently, he wasn't. The criminals of the world were suddenly finding that they could get away with things they never could before. That meant instead of being caught and punished, they were eluding the law, finding and recruiting others of their own kind, and spreading out their operations without fear of anyone stopping them. The local gendarmes were doing what they could, but they weren't getting very far when the very universe seemed to be working against them. After Arima had learned that some of the robbers he'd brought in earlier had killed their jailer and escaped, he'd stopped even bothering trying to deliver them to justice. Now he just emptied their pockets, tied them up with whatever was handy, and left them to escape or not on their own. He hadn't quite worked his way up to killing them on sight yet, but if he got frustrated enough he might just get there. He had already had his supplies stolen three times and his food eaten before he managed to catch up to the villains and get his things back. It was getting tiresome.

More than that, it was getting worrisome. Where was Aurite? What had happened to him? Gods were supposed to be immortal, but there were stories about them being destroyed or sealed away by their fellow deities. But if that had happened, why did Arima's priestly gifts still function? He should have lost all his power if his ties with his god had been permanently severed. So why couldn't he get an answer from Aurite when he called on him, and why was all this happening? Why had there been no warning? Nothing made any sense.

Still worrying, Arima made his way through the forest and emerged at the edge of a scrap of farmland. He was relieved to see a farmhouse in the distance and picked up his pace. It was possible he could bargain for food there, and perhaps get directions. He might even find someone willing to deal with the thugs he'd left behind, assuming they hadn't untied themselves by now. In a world where the organized sources of justice had lost their patron deity, vigilante justice seemed to be more effective than appealing to the constabulary.

The door to the farmhouse was answered by a jolly little old woman.

"Ah, you're a stranger in these parts, aren't you?" she asked. "Are you looking for work?"

He shook his head. "I am only a wandering holy man on a pilgrimage. Tell me, do you know of a town called Binan?"

"Oh, yes," said the old woman. "If that's where you're going, you're on the right track. If you keep following the main road, you'll come to a fork at a big rock. The path to the left will lead you to the next big city, but the one to the right goes up into the mountains and through Binan. I never knew there was anything there to interest a priest, though. It's a nice little town, don't get me wrong, but there's only the one temple that I know of, and a couple of little shrines."

Arima smiled his most reassuring smile. "I don't quite know why I'm going there myself, but when the gods command, their priests obey."

The old woman chuckled. "Aye, that's so. There's just no accounting for what they want sometimes. Makes me glad that I never had a calling to that life..."

She continued to chatter in that vein for a while, while Arima nodded and made polite noises at her. Eventually, his patience was rewarded, as she presented him with some fresh-baked bread, a few vegetables, and a hunk of cheese to tide him over for the remainder of the walk. The woman assured him that he would reach Binan by the next day if he continued walking at a good pace. He thanked her for her kindness and performed a quick blessing for form's sake. The way things had been lately, he wasn't even sure it would take, but he felt better for doing it.

Still, he had a more positive outlook after he left than when he'd arrived. Up until that point, he'd almost not believed that Binan was a real place. Just because something was marked on a map didn't necessarily mean it was there, or that it hadn't once been there but had long ago dried up and vanished. Now he had met someone who had been there and could tell him things about it. That made it real.

Unfortunately, what he'd been told didn't sound all that promising. A small town with only one temple usually meant they had a single building with several altars to the different members of the pantheon, or perhaps just one plain altar that served for all of them. It didn't sound like the sort of place he was likely to find any clues. He wished he'd thought to ask if there was anything else at all notable about the town. Still, at least he would be there soon. He would just have to keep trusting he was on the right path, and that he'd know what he needed to do when he got there.

 _This isn't quite what I expected the priesthood to be like,_ he mused, as he trudged along the rocky path.

Still, the old woman's instructions seemed sound enough. Walking for another hour or so brought him to the promised fork, with one wider road leading the way to the city and a narrower, weedier track winding up into the hills. Arima turned right with only a little trepidation and continued onward. His going became slower - this road was not well-maintained and was riddled with rocks and ruts. Once he came to a place where a thick tree branch had fallen across the road, and he lingered long enough to drag it out of the way in case someone else needed to get through. The way became steeper, progressing steadily uphill, so that he was having to stop and rest more frequently. He had thought that he was in reasonably good condition, but being a priest was apparently not very good training for mountain climbing.

Still, it was all worth it when he rounded a bend and found himself looking at the peak of a mountain rising against the sky, and realizing it was exactly the vision he'd seen in his dream, right down to the cozy little village nestled against its flank. Somewhere he found the energy for a whoop of relief. He didn't know what he would find in this town, but whatever it was, he was well on his way to finding it.

"Don't worry, Aurite," he said, as he picked up his pace. "Whatever is wrong here, I'll make it right. You can count on me!"

* * *

Working at an inn was turning out to be an education. Not that Kinshiro had any memory of giving thought to what it might be like, but when he'd gone to sleep that first night here, knowing that in the morning he would be expected to go to work, he couldn't have guessed what it would be like.

And what it was, was _hard_. It astonished him that someone so apparently laid-back as Atsushi could somehow manage to juggle it all alone, as he apparently had been doing before Kinshiro had come along. The two of them started work early every morning, starting the cooking so that there would be hot food ready when the lunch crowd started to arrive, tending to any overnight guests, sweeping floors, washing dishes, chopping wood, doing laundry... it never seemed to end. Despite Atsushi's insistence that Kinshiro take it slow and let his strength build up gradually, he still went to bed exhausted every night.

Exhausted and strangely happy. He'd taken over most of the cleaning around the inn, and while he didn't enjoy finishing every day feeling filthy and aching with exhaustion, it gave him a kind of pleasure to look at something that had been dirty and disorderly and know that he'd been the one to put it in order. Atsushi had told him with evident appreciation that the upstairs rooms had never been so clean and tidy before Kinshiro had come into the picture.

The other thing he was learning to like was Atsushi. If he was being honest with himself, he'd initially found himself slightly resenting his rescuer. It was one thing to be rescued - that was an emergency situation, and some grand gestures were excusable under the circumstances. The way Atsushi had continued to care for him even after the immediate danger had passed was a little harder for Kinshiro to accept. He didn't like feeling that he was dependent on someone, even someone who didn't seem to care about ever being repaid. It took working in the inn every day, watching Atsushi take care of his customers the same way he took care of Kinshiro to make him decide that this person was just someone who found his reason for living in taking care of other people. He welcomed each new guest as if they were old friends and made regulars feel as if his common room was an extension of their own kitchen. Being treated like just another one of Atsushi's guests made the stay easier to bear.

Now the only thing about staying here that he truly didn't like was dealing with people. He didn't seem to have the knack for it. He was too different from the crowds of people here, and they didn't trust him, nor did he understand them. The best he could do was hold his head high and say as little as possible to anybody.

He was doing that now, busing tables in the midst of the lunch rush. It was a busy afternoon - there was a group of merchants staying at the inn, hoping to sell a few things at the village market the next day, and the usual gaggle of craftsmen and field hands had come in for some food and a break from their labors - and Kinshiro quite literally had his hands full trying to keep the tables clean and clear. As he darted back and forth between the kitchen and the common room, he kept catching glimpses of Atsushi filling mugs at the bar and dashing through the kitchen to bring out food. He seemed to be having a good time. Probably for him, this felt easy, now that his workload had been effectively halved. Kinshiro dumped a load of dishes into the sink, where he would hopefully find time to deal with them before the inn ran out of clean mugs. As he hurried back out into the main room, he passed Atsushi coming in. Atsushi gave him a smile, and Kinshiro found himself smiling back. Suddenly the frantic running around felt a little less stressful and a little more like a challenge he could win.

He dove back into the fray with renewed enthusiasm, and was immediately accosted by a red-faced drunk.

"Hey, you, boy!" he shouted, waving his empty tankard. "Gimme s'more of this!"

"I'm not serving drinks right now," said Kinshiro primly. "Talk to Atsushi when he gets back from the kitchen and I'm sure he'll be happy to help you."

"That's shit," the man said. "You're right here. You get me my drink."

"I'm sorry, sir, but..."

"That's not fair! I wanted a drink," the man complained. "I don't see why you won't just..."

He made a clumsy gesture with one hand, and the bowl he'd been eating from was knocked to the floor, shattering to pieces and spilling the remains of his stew on Kinshiro's clean floor.

"Look what you've done!" Kinshiro snapped. "You clumsy oaf, just look at the mess you've made. What's wrong with you?"

The man's face went purple. "Now, you listen here, you..."

Suddenly Atsushi was between the two of them, pushing Kinshiro aside.

"Let me get that drink for you," he said, taking the man's mug. "Kinshiro, would you bring a rag here so we can clean this mess up, please?"

Kinshiro gaped at him. "But..."

"Thanks," said Atsushi, and hurried off to refill the man's drink.

Face burning, Kinshiro stomped off to the kitchen to find a rag. On his way back out, Atsushi accosted him.

"Kinshiro, you can't talk to customers that way," he said pleadingly.

"He was rude to me first," Kinshiro retorted.

"That doesn't matter," said Atsushi. "We're here to keep the customers happy. If they ask you to do something, unless it's really out of line, you should try to do it."

"He was drunk," said Kinshiro righteously. "And he broke the dish. That's costing you money. You shouldn't let him in here at all if he's just going to make trouble."

Atsushi sighed. "I know he gets drunk. He used to be a miner. He was injured in a cave-in, and our local healers aren't good enough to fix him. He drinks because he hurts. He doesn't need us making life worse for him."

"Oh," said Kinshiro, looking down at the floor. "I didn't know that."

"Right," said Atsushi. "Anyway, he comes here every day. Losing him as a customer would cost me more in the long run than one broken dish. We're all better off if we show a little lenience. All right?"

"You let people take advantage of you, you know," said Kinshiro.

Atsushi blushed a little. "Maybe sometimes. But if it's a choice between being cruel or being too kind, isn't it better to choose the second?"

Kinshiro didn't have an answer for that.

"I'm going to get that rag now," he said, and strode off to clean.

The rush continued throughout the day, and Kinshiro found that he could mostly keep his mind clear as long as he focused completely on the job at hand and did his best to stay well clear of the old miner. Maybe Atsushi had a point about being lenient with people, but the idea still made him uncomfortable. Better for him to just avoid the whole idea.

Apparently Atsushi realized that there was some tension between them. Once the last of the dinner rush had died down and the merchants had gone upstairs to bed, Atsushi came out of the kitchen and found Kinshiro wiping down the last of the tables.

"How are things shaping up in here?" he asked.

"Almost done," Kinshiro replied. "I just need to sweep the floor and I'll be finished."

"Leave it for tomorrow," said Atsushi. "It's been a busy day, and we're both worn out. What do you say we go for a treat?"

"Will that be all right?" asked Kinshiro, looking anxiously towards the stairs. It was funny how fast he'd become possessive of the inn. He didn't want to leave it if there was a chance someone might need him.

"Everyone else is asleep. They won't miss us if we step out for a while. Besides, I have a deal with the place we're going."

"Well, if you're sure," said Kinshiro grudgingly. He still didn't like the idea of taking a break, but he was tired and everything from his shoulders down ached. He supposed a brief respite wouldn't do any real harm.

He and Atsushi put out the lamps and locked up the front door. The town outside was quiet. Not a lot of businesses stayed open after sundown, and most of the townspeople had gone back to their own homes. There weren't many lights, but the moon was very bright that night, and the stars hung closely over the mountain. Kinshiro found himself regretting that he hadn't spent more time out of doors since he'd come to stay here.

"I love it here after dark," said Atsushi conversationally. "It's so peaceful."

Kinshiro agreed that it was. It was as if the violence of the storm that had brought the two of them together had never happened. The air was still and faintly scented of pine trees from the surrounding forest, and the clatter of the day had been replaced by the softer sounds of people settling in for the night. He could almost imagine that he and Atsushi were the only people left awake. He cast a quick glance at his companion, and Atsushi smiled at him. Kinshiro quickly jerked his eyes away, feeling his cheeks warm.

 _Why does he smile that way at me? I know why he's kind to me - he's kind to me because he's kind to everyone - but what does he see that makes him smile?_

He gave his head a shake. He didn't need to be thinking those sorts of thoughts. It was only tiredness and the moonlight making his mind wander.

"So where are we going?" he asked. "Isn't everything closed now?"

"Not quite everything," said Atsushi. "There's a place called the Kurotama that stays open late. I have no idea if they ever even close. Anyway, it's a bath house. A lot of the people around here go there after work to relax, so they have to be open late."

"I see," said Kinshiro, brightening a little. A long hot soak sounded like a wonderful idea. He wished he'd known about the place sooner.

Sure enough, right at the edge of town, there was a quaint little building that stood a bit removed from the rest of the town. It had the look of something that had been there forever, worn around the edges but showing the touch of loving hands preserving it through the generations.

"Nice old place, isn't it?" said Atsushi. "The same family has been taking care of it for as long as the town has existed. I think people must have built this town around the hot spring."

"It is nice," Kinshiro admitted. It might have been a trifle shabby, but the sense of timelessness about it struck him as comforting. He wondered if it was only the uncertainty of his own current situation that made him appreciate a place that looked as though it hadn't changed in decades.

The moment Atsushi stepped through the front door, they were all but pounced on by a blond young man.

"Hi there!" he chirped. "Hey, Atsushi! I haven't seen you in forever! How've you been?"

"Fine, thank you," said Atsushi. "Just busy. Yumoto, I want you to meet my friend Kinshiro. He's working with me at the inn now."

"Really? That's great!" Yumoto enthused. He bounded forwards to get a better look at Kinshiro, who took a step backwards involuntarily. Yumoto might be small, but what he lacked in size, he made up for in sheer presence. He positively radiated the sense that he might do anything at any moment. "Wow, hi! I haven't seen you around before. Are you new in town?"

"Something like that," said Kinshiro.

Yumoto beamed at him. "Well, you're going to like it here! This is a great place!"

"He'll like it better if he can come inside," said a deeper voice. A pair of callused hands gently pulled Yumoto out of the way, and Kinshiro looked up at a tall red-haired man.

"Sorry about my little brother," he said. "He has a lot of enthusiasm."

"I was just welcoming him to the bath house!" Yumoto protested.

"I'm sure you made them feel very welcome," said his big brother. "I'm just saying maybe you had better let them in now."

"Actually," said Atsushi, "I was going to ask if it would be all right for Yumoto to watch the inn for a little while."

"Can I?" asked Yumoto, lighting up as if this were a special treat.

His brother laughed. "Sure, go on. I have things under control here."

"Thanks, Gora!" Even as he spoke, Yumoto was already bounding up the road into town. Gora watched him fondly.

"Well, guys, come on in," he said to his guests. "The water's fine as usual!"

Kinshiro allowed himself to be escorted into the bath house. The interior matched the outside: well-worn, but in a pleasantly homelike fashion. The air was warm and steamy, and held a sharp hint of herbal soap. Just being there made him feel a little more relaxed, as if this place's mere existence was enough to keep the world in balance. He shook his head at that idea, reflecting that he must be more tired than he'd thought.

"Are you sure it's all right, leaving that boy in charge?" he asked, as he began stripping down and preparing to enter the bath.

"It'll be fine," Atsushi assured him. "I've done this lots of times, and I've never actually had anything go wrong with Yumoto in charge."

"Yet," said Kinshiro darkly.

Atsushi laughed. "Yet, but I don't think I'm going to. Yumoto can seem a little flighty at times, but he takes his responsibilities seriously. Anyway, you don't want his big brother to hear you saying things about him, do you?"

Kinshiro was forced to agree that the proprietor of the bath house did not seem to be the sort of person on whose bad side it would be wise to be. For one thing, he was head and shoulders taller than Kinshiro, and what little could be seen through his loose-fitting clothes suggested that the man was solid muscle. For another thing, even their brief acquaintance had been enough to convince Kinshiro that the man adored his little brother.

 _Maybe that's why I feel so drawn to Atsushi._ In a small town like this, every person was connected to each other in a myriad of small ways. Everyone was related, or had grown up with each other, or bought vegetables from each other, or had just passed each other in the street day after day. Out of everyone in this place, Kinshiro was the only one who was isolated. Despite Atsushi's best efforts, he'd been unable to find any clue that might suggest where Kinshiro had come from, and no one had come forth to claim him. Even his job at the inn had not made him fully accepted by the village. He'd heard more than once people whispering that they didn't think much of him - that he was clearly not of their class, that he probably thought himself above them, that he simply didn't belong in a place like this. And they might have been right. He could hear it in the formality of his own speech, the unconscious grace of his movements. Whoever he was, he hadn't been raised a country boy with farm manners. Add in the strangeness of his lack of memories - which he was sure some people felt was nothing more than a ruse - and it was small wonder that no one seemed inclined to get too close to him.

But Atsushi didn't seem to mind. He never showed any sign of doubting Kinshiro's story, never seemed to mind his strangeness. He treated Kinshiro like a person instead of merely a subject for gossip.

"Atsushi," he said, as the two of them slid into the tub together, "are you angry with me for shouting at that man?"

It reassured Kinshiro somewhat that Atsushi had to stop and think about the question.

"No," he said at last. "I'm not saying I think it was the right thing to do, because it wasn't, but you did it because you thought you were helping me. Just don't do anything like that again and it will be okay."

"I see," said Kinshiro. "I will endeavor to restrain myself, then." He stirred his hand thoughtfully though the warm water, watching the steam gently rising from its surface. "Atsushi, do you want me to leave?"

Atsushi sat bolt upright, lost his seating, and slipped under the water for an instant to come up spluttering. "What...? Why would you...?"

Kinshiro looked at him quizzically. "Are you all right?"

Atsushi shook the water out of his hair and wiped his eyes. "I'm fine. Just... why would you ask me something like that?"

"Because I know I don't belong here," said Kinshiro. "I'm not a good fit as an innkeeper, either. You would admit that if you were being honest."

Atsushi looked slightly ashamed. "Well, you're still learning." Apparently Kinshiro's face must have been eloquent, because Atsushi added, "All right, all right. It's not the job you were made for, but it's just temporary, until you figure out where you _are_ supposed to be. That doesn't mean I don't want you around."

"Why _do_ you want me around?" Kinshiro asked bluntly.

Atsushi looked at him quizzically. "Well, we're friends, aren't we?"

"Are we?" Kinshiro replied.

"I think so," said Atsushi. "I like having you around. It's good to have the company." He laughed a little. "I think you give the place a touch of class. Seriously, though, I admire you."

Now it was Kinshiro's turn to be surprised. "Admire me? What for?"

"Because of the way you are, I suppose," Atsushi replied. He leaned back against the wall of the tub, collecting his thoughts. "You hold yourself to a high standard. Even when all you're doing is sweeping a floor or making a bed, you won't let yourself do it any way but perfectly. Other people might say it doesn't matter if they don't get something exactly right, but not you. It makes me want to do better at things, too. You're inspiring."

Kinshiro let himself slip a little lower into the water, hoping the heat would help disguise his blushes, or at least that he could attribute his flushed face to the heat of the water.

"You're that way too, you know," he said.

"Me? No way," said Atsushi.

"You are," said Kinshiro. "You're always so kind and understanding to everyone. You see the good in people, their potential, not just their shortcomings. I don't think I could be that kind."

"I thought you said I shouldn't let people take advantage of me," said Atsushi with a small smile.

"They shouldn't take advantage of you," said Kinshiro firmly. "If you show them kindness and they do you wrong in return, the guilt falls on their heads. If I were in charge..."

He trailed off, unsure how he'd been planning to finish that sentence. What _would_ he do? Make them behave? How did he think he was going to do that?

Atsushi laughed at him. "See, I knew you must be from a noble family. It's obviously in your blood."

"Oh really?" asked Kinshiro, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Then how did I get so good at sweeping floors?"

"Can't answer that," Atsushi admitted. "I guess you're just naturally talented?"

"Perhaps," said Kinshiro thoughtfully. "So it's all right? Me staying, I mean. It won't cause too much trouble for you?"

"Of course it's all right. Stay as long as you want," Atsushi assured him.

"Thank you," said Kinshiro. "I appreciate that."

Once they'd had their soak and changed back into their clothes, they thanked the proprietor and started back home again. They had been out longer than Kinshiro realized, and most of the lights in the town were already out. The streets were completely dark save for the light of the moon and stars. The two of them walked slowly, warm and tired, simply savoring the peace and the presence of their companions. Kinshiro found himself watching Atsushi out of the corner of his eye. He entertained a small fantasy, that he would find whatever rich and important family he so obviously belonged to, and that he would use his newfound power and influence to do something good for Atsushi. He would pay someone to take over Atsushi's inn, since it obviously meant so much to him, and then he would take him to the city and set him up comfortably somewhere. Whatever it was that Kinshiro's family owned, he'd make sure that Atsushi was given some control over it, because he would obviously be able to take good care of it. Kinshiro found himself wanting to give Atsushi things just to watch what he would do with them.

He found his gaze lingering on Atsushi's face, enjoying the way the wind toyed with his hair, and caught himself with a jolt as he realized where his thoughts had been going. He knew he didn't belong in this town. No matter how willing Atsushi was to let him stay, he didn't want to stay there forever, and didn't plan to no matter how things turned out.

It was dawning on him now, though, that he was planning to stay with Atsushi.

 **To Be Continued...**


	4. Many Visitors

The dreams had not stopped coming.

Atsushi frowned down at the vegetables he was chopping, trying to clear his mind. Last night had been fairly pleasant, as far as dreams went, or at least not particularly unpleasant. In his dream, he'd seen a young man of astonishing beauty, with long soft-looking hair and huge expressive blue eyes set in a delicately formed face. His expression, however, had been one of petulance and barely disguised fear.

The reason for his discomfort was plain. He stood before the golden form of the god Aurite, while several other less visible gods lurked in the background, watching the proceedings.

"You've caused a great deal of trouble in the world," Aurite was telling him. "This cannot be allowed to go on."

"It isn't my fault," said the young man, pouting. "Is it my fault I was born beautiful? I thought that was the work of the gods. You can't blame me for being what I was made to be."

Atsushi knew this story. The young man's name was Akoya. According to the legends, he'd been born with incredible beauty, which had only increased as he grew into manhood. People came from great distances to catch a glimpse of him, wealthy and powerful people attempted to court him, and eventually even the gods began to squabble over him. Akoya, however, had cared nothing for any of them, and had remained entirely absorbed in his own interests. His would-be suitors, however, had been unwilling to take no for an answer, and had bickered and fought each other until Aurite himself had been obliged to step in.

"No, it is not your fault," said Aurite, "but it is your responsibility nonetheless. Your very existence disrupts the order of the world, and that cannot be permitted to continue."

Fear flashed across Akoya's face. "Are you going to kill me, then?"

"No," said Aurite. It was hard to tell through the aura of golden light that surrounded him and obscured his features, but Atsushi thought the god looked amused. "For one thing, it would be a waste. For another, you have your admirers even in the underworld. We can't have you disrupting the afterlife on top of everything else." He regarded Akoya thoughtfully. "I suppose we could alter your appearance..."

"No!" Akoya backed away, hands pressed to his face as if to protect it. "Anything but that! I'd truly rather die."

"No one said you had a choice in the matter," said Aurite sternly. "Although, as I've said, I hesitate to destroy something beautiful without good reason. Therefore, I am willing to give you the choice you so obviously want." He leaned forward, giving Akoya the full weight of his regard. "If I offered to allow you to retain your beauty - and what's more, to remain young and beautiful forever - what would you be willing to do in exchange?"

Akoya's eyes lit up with hope and longing. "Anything you asked. Name your price."

Aurite did. Atsushi knew this story well. To resolve the problem, Aurite had gone straight to the highest authorities, the two gods of Fate and Chance, and asked for permission to do something that had never been done before. With their leave, Aurite had promoted Akoya to a new existence as Pearlite, god of beauty and springtime, effectively protecting him from any influence mortals over him, so that they would no longer dare to fight over him. In exchange, he had to work in his new capacity, spreading beauty throughout the world and encouraging humanity to appreciate it wherever they found it, not only in him. In addition, to help prevent bickering among the gods over which of them would enjoy his favors. Pearlite was told to select two consorts from among his many heavenly suitors, one from the underworld and one from the holy city. Once he was under their protection, the other gods would have no choice but to leave him alone or face their combined wrath.

The story of how that decision had been made, as the various gods competed for his hand, was a legend in itself, but in the end, he had made his choice - Sulfur, whose sophisticated manner and vast wealth made him the most desirable by far of the underworld gods, and Vesta, who may not have had Pearlite's unearthly beauty but made up for it in raw sensuality. The two of them had already been together a long time, and had agreed to the bargain on the condition that to choose one of them meant choosing both of them, a condition that Pearlite had willingly agreed to. Ever since then, Pearlite had been dividing his time between helping Vesta encourage new life in the spring, bestowing his blessings on the glorious afterlife, and enjoying himself with his two consorts in the heavenly city. On the whole, the situation had resolved itself quite happily, and was regarded by one and all as one of Aurite's great successes in leadership. It was the story trotted out most often to remind people that while he could be a harsh god towards those who did wrong, to those who were in need of help, he could be helpful and even generous.

 _All right, so he's scary, but he's not all bad,_ Atsushi mused, as he tipped the freshly chopped vegetables into the stew pot. _That doesn't explain why I keep dreaming about him every night._

Once was enough to unsettle him. Twice might be coincidence. But it had been happening over and over again. Sometimes, as last night, he'd relived scenes from legends. He'd almost enjoyed seeing the re-creation of the story of how Aurite had first taken up his golden arrows as his favored weapon. Sometimes they just seemed to be glimpses of what were, for lack of a better word, everyday life, provided that the life you were talking about was an immortal and immensely powerful one. No matter what, though, the dreams always centered on the same dark-clad figure with the glowing golden aura.

By the time the lunch rush was over, his mind was made up.

"Kinshiro," he called, "I need to run an errand in town. Do you think you could keep an eye on the place for me for an hour or so?"

"What if someone comes in wanting food?" Kinshiro asked.

"Tell them we're out of everything but stew until dinnertime," said Atsushi.

"All right, then," said Kinshiro. "I ought to be able to manage that." A small smile. "If things get out of hand, I can always send for your friend Yumoto to help."

Atsushi laughed. "If it comes to that, go ahead."

Feeling reassured, he left the inn and started for the center of town. It really was a relief to know there was someone taking care of things for him. Life really had become so much better since Kinshiro had come into it.

 _I can't imagine what I'm going to do without him when he leaves..._

He shook his head, pushing the thought away. He'd managed before, and he'd do it again. Right now, he had other things on his mind.

A brisk walk led him to the village's one and only temple. It was a nice one, considering the town's small size, a tall building of pale grey stone with stained glass windows lining each of its sides. They were simple enough things, each a solid color with a golden symbol in the middle that represented a member of the pantheon. Inside the temple, beneath these windows, were little altars where one could make offerings or entreaties to the various gods. Formal services were rarely held there. This was a place solely for private meditation and reflection. There were, however, a revolving supply of priests, sent in by the larger cities to offer some guidance or consolation to the villagers as needed. Atsushi hoped he could find one of these and get some input on the strange turns his life had taken.

With appropriate reverence, he climbed the small flight of steps to the double front doors and slipped silently inside. The temple itself was dim, and he took a moment to let his eyes adjust. The only light was what spilled through the windows, creating a rainbow of colors on the smooth stone floor, and the candles lit on each of the altars. Atsushi made his way slowly down the center aisle. He glanced uneasily at the altar to Sulfur and made a perfunctory gesture of respect before continuing. He paused, not in front of Aurite's altar, but in front of the shrine to Cerulean, God of Sleep and Dreams.

It wasn't a particularly magnificent altar. Cerulean wasn't one of the more highly esteemed gods, scarcely ever propitiated unless one was suffering from insomnia or nightmares. He had been known to offer revelations to his most devoted followers by way of dreams, but becoming one of his acolytes required a willingness to spend most of one's time asleep, which did not do much for a person's social life. All this altar had to show for itself was a little stylized humanoid figurine draped in a blue robe, two burning candles, a little box of incense, a plate to burn it in, and a second box for offerings. Atsushi obligingly took a coin from his purse and dropped it into the offering box, then used a candle to light a cone of incense. While the lavender-scented smoke drifted gently upwards, he closed his eyes and permitted himself a brief wish, not quite a prayer, that he could know what in the world was going on in his life.

He was distracted from his meditations by the soft sound of someone coming up behind him.

"Help you with something?" a voice asked.

Atsushi opened his eyes and turned to see that a young priest had come up behind him. He looked to be about Atsushi's age, or maybe a little older, and he was wearing a somewhat threadbare robe and cracked leather sandals, marking him as a priest, and not a particularly high-ranking one. His drowsy eyes and tousled blond hair, plus the rather rumpled state of his robe, suggested that he'd been catching a nap in the quiet temple while no one was around.

"Just... working through a few thoughts," said Atsushi. "I haven't seen you here before. Are you new?"

The young priest nodded. "Just got here a few days ago, from the city. Came here to get some peace and quiet." He ran a hand through his hair, in an apparent attempt to make it lie a little more neatly. It didn't work. He gave up the attempt and offered a handshake instead. "Call me En."

"Atsushi. Nice to meet you." He took the young priest's hand. It was smooth, and his grip was firm but not crushing. A friendly sort of handshake. Atsushi found himself warming to his new acquaintance.

"So what's got you coming out here in the middle of the day?" En asked. "You look like a guy with something on your mind."

"Well, the truth is," Atsushi admitted, "I've been having these dreams."

En nodded slowly. "What kind of dreams?"

Atsushi told him. En listened, gaze steady, nodding and occasionally asking a question, but mostly just letting him talk. He didn't seem to find any of what Atsushi was telling him strange, which was reassuring.

"I just wish I knew what I'm dreaming all this," he concluded. "I mean, I'm nobody. I'm just the guy who runs the inn in a little town in the middle of nowhere. Why am I dreaming about one of the most important gods in the pantheon? What have I got to do with him?"

"You never know," said En. "They say his chief priest used to be just a gardener, once. Sometimes the gods like to focus on people you wouldn't expect. I think they think it's funny."

"So you think he's taken an interest in me?" Atsushi asked, taken aback. "Why?"

En shrugged. "Who knows? At least he doesn't seem to dislike you. Seems to me, he's just letting you get to know what he's like. You're being given information. What you do with it..." He trailed off and shrugged. "That's going to be up to you."

"I see," said Atsushi. That made him feel a little better. He could deal with making choices better than he could having the gods simply make up his mind for him.

"Anything else I can do for you?" asked En, regarding him thoughtfully.

"No," said Atsushi, and then, "Yes, actually, there is something else. I saw a god the other day. An actual one, not a dream. In the common room of my inn."

"That's allowed," said En. "Everyone is allowed in the common rooms of inns, even gods."

"Yes, but this was one of the underworld gods - a death god," Atsushi protested. "I don't want anyone to die."

"Everyone dies, sooner or later," En pointed out. "I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you. Probably he was just being nosy, especially if there's already another god interested in you. They're all snoops, you know - they can't stay out of human business. Or each other's, for that matter. He probably just popped in to see what was going on."

"Do you really think so?" Atsushi asked. He wouldn't have imagined that there might be such a simple explanation.

"It's as good a reason as any for him to be hanging around," said En. He shrugged. "Look at it this way - the underworld gods don't actually kill people. Your birth and death are decided by the gods of Fate and Chance. Having a death god hanging around your house doesn't make it any more or less likely that someone is going to die there. What's more, from a god's perspective, tomorrow and next week and next year and fifty years from now are pretty much all the same. He could be hanging around waiting for something that's going to happen when you're ninety."

"That's a relief," said Atsushi. "I was really worried. I've got a guest I'm taking care of... He wasn't in very good health when he first arrived here, and I thought..."

"That having a death god hanging around meant he wasn't long for this world?" En finished. "Probably not. He didn't _say_ your friend was going to die, did he?"

"Well, no," Atsushi admitted.

"Right. So he's probably not there to deliver messages of gloom and doom," said En. "If it happens again, then maybe you can start worrying. Otherwise, don't let it bother you."

"All right. If you're sure," said Atsushi. "Thank you."

En waved a hand, dismissing his thanks. "No problem. Come back again any time you feel like chatting. I'll be around for a while."

"I might do that," said Atsushi. "And hey, any time you want a good meal, come by the inn. I'll have something waiting for you."

"Sure, I could do that," said En, smiling. "It sounds like fun."

"I'll look forward to it, then," Atsushi replied. "And now I'd better head back. I promised my friend I wouldn't be long."

"Well, the door's always open," said En casually.

Feeling much more at ease, Atsushi ambled back out of the temple to go check on how Kinshiro was doing. En followed him as far as the door, standing and watching him go. It was only after Atsushi was well out of earshot that he turned and closed the door firmly behind him. He was not surprised to see that, though the room had been empty a moment ago, there was now someone watching him.

"Well?" he said. "What do you think?"

"That was such a load of bull," a voice replied.

"Well, I had to tell him something," said En with a shrug.

The speaker stepped fully into view, revealing himself as a red-headed young man with bright eyes and a roguish smile. He shook his head, looking both amused and exasperated by En's answer.

"I know," he said, "but you're a lousy liar, you know that?"

"I just didn't want him to be scared," said En. "I don't see the harm in letting him have some peace of mind. What did Sulfur have to go and scare him for, anyway?"

"Because he deserves to have some idea of what he's letting himself in for," said Sulfur, stepping out of the air next to the first young man. "Hello, Vesta. Nice to see you taking an interest in the proceedings, finally."

"Hey, I'm very interested!" Vesta protested. "I just haven't been letting myself get caught, like some people I could mention."

"I just wanted a good look at the situation," said Sulfur. "I prefer to go into things with as much information as possible."

There was a shimmer in the air and a whiff of flowers as Pearlite materialized next to them.

"I've been telling you from the start that I have my doubts about this whole plan," he said. "There's far too much risk involved."

"You're one to talk," said Vesta.

"I'm just saying, we have no idea if this is even going to work," said Pearlite. "We could just be making things worse."

"I know," said Sulfur sympathetically, "but I've worked out the probabilities every way I can think of, and this is really our best chance."

"Just don't scare the poor guy anymore," said En. "You heard him - he's worried his buddy is going to die. We don't want him going around thinking that."

Sulfur shrugged uneasily. "Well, his death is fated. Even I can't change that - you said it yourself. All I can do is stand by and make sure it goes smoothly when it happens."

"Just stop being scary," En insisted. He sighed and shook his head. "This is giving me a headache. I need a nap."

Vesta rolled his eyes. "Cerulean, you always want a nap. But you have a point. We should just leave these guys alone for a while and let them work things out on their own."

"You would be the expert on that," said Sulfur. "All right. I won't let them see me again. No more scaring people."

"Now you're talking sense," said En. "Come on, let's get out of here, before someone comes in and I have to start playing priest again."

Pearlite laughed. "And we can't have _you_ doing anything like work, can we?"

But even as he spoke, he was already vanishing. Within the space of a breath, all four of them were gone.

* * *

As it turned out, there was nothing to see in Binan.

Not that there was anything unpleasant about the place. Far from it - Arima had been pleasantly surprised by what a lively little village it was, despite its isolation and modest size. The people there were friendly and happy to see a visitor from so far away, particularly when he let slip what his profession was, and were all eager to make him feel welcome. He spent the better part of the day exploring the town from end to end, first visiting the temple, then the mayor's office, and finally working his way around the various shops and minor local landmarks. Other than discovering some surprisingly good eateries and being invited to join the mayor and his wife for tea, the visit had been entirely uneventful. The most he'd been able to get was that there had been some sort of divine activity, particularly around the temple, but finding those sorts of traces was rather like finding leaves under a tree. They didn't tell him anything he didn't already know. Now it was growing late, and he was once again growing tired and discouraged.

 _What am I supposed to be finding here?_ he wondered, directing his thoughts to the world in general. Yes, this seemed like the sort of tidy, well-regulated town his god would love most, but other than that, the place seemed utterly unremarkable.

Well, the day was almost over. He would find a place to stay, get a good night's sleep, and think about it some more when he was rested. He had to have been sent here for some reason, and he wasn't ready to give up yet.

"Excuse me," he asked a passing man. "Do you know a place where I could find a bed for the night, and possibly a bath?"

The man paused and scratched his beard thoughtfully. "Well, now. There are two inns here, the Cloverleaf and the Mountain's Arms. If you're looking for a bath, though, your best bet is to keep heading that way..." He gestured to the road leading out of town. "...and stop in at the Kurotama. You're an outsider, aren't you? Well, no visit to Binan is complete without visiting the Kurotama bath house."

Arima was aware suddenly of how long it had been since he'd had a proper bath. Splashing in cold water from a stream was in no way comparable to a real scrub with soap and a long soak in actual hot water. When you were the servant of a god who believed in order and tidiness, keeping yourself clean and well-groomed wasn't just a good idea, it was a basic tenet of your faith.

"Thank you. I will definitely do that," he said.

A brisk walk brought him to the bath house, where he was pleased to discover that he was the only guest at the moment, giving him a moment of tranquility to sort through his thoughts. He settled himself into a tub and leaned back, closing his eyes and concentrating on settling his thoughts. Mental discipline, that was the ticket. If he could just clear his mind and let everything that had happened to him filter down through his thoughts, he would be able to turn up the answer, just as long as he could sit here quietly and...

"You doing okay, Mister?"

Arima jumped. Someone had crept into the room without his noticing it. His eyes flew open, treating him to the sight of a blond-haired boy leaning on a mop. He relaxed a little, recognizing the bath attendant.

"Everything is fine, thank you," he said graciously.

"That's good," said the boy, smiling with obvious pleasure. "Boy, there sure are a lot of new people coming through town lately. First that other guy, and now you. Are you staying long?"

"I'm not sure," Arima admitted.

"Maybe you could stay at the Cloverleaf," said the bath attendant. "That's where the other guy is staying."

"Other guy?"

"Yeah, you know. I just said. There was that other guy who came here a couple of weeks ago. The innkeeper found him in an alley or something and he didn't remember who he was, so he took him home with him and that's where he's been ever since. He's a funny guy. Doesn't talk much, but he seems nice. Hey, you know a lot of people, right?"

"Ah..." said Arima, who was having a difficult time keeping up with the rapid change of topics.

"Atsushi thinks the guy he found must be someone important," the attendant continued. "If you've been around a lot, you might recognize him. Then he'd know who he is."

"Hmm," said Arima thoughtfully. A stranger - an important stranger - in a small town, who had apparently undergone something traumatic enough to make him lose his memory... that was the only interesting bit of news he'd heard all day. With no other leads, what could he do but investigate?

"Where do I find this Cloverleaf Inn?" he inquired.

The attendant obligingly rattled off the directions, and Arima repeated them back to make sure he'd memorized them. Once he was certain he had his directions straight, he dried himself off and left the bath house in as much haste as he could manage without offending the proprietor. Then he hurried off in search of the promised inn.

Even with good directions, it took him a few minutes of walking up and down the street before he finally found the place. It wasn't as large as he expected, just a simple two-floor building. He guessed that it probably didn't have more than ten rooms, and perhaps not even that many if they were of any decent size. Like most of the buildings on the street, it looked as if it had been there since the dawn of civilization, with a few coats of flaking paint doing little to disguise its age. A modest signboard propped against the wall by the door read, in neatly painted letters, "Cloverleaf Inn - Rooms - Beer - Food". Definitely not the sort of place a high priest usually stayed the night. Still, it looked clean, and the smells drifting through the open front door were enticing. A babble of conversation drifting out suggested that there was a healthy crowd in there, so it couldn't have been that bad.

 _I really only need to go in and look,_ he told himself.

He stepped through the door and into the warmly lit common room. A few people glanced up at him as he came in, recognizing him as a stranger, and he took the opportunity to size them up in turn. They looked to him like the sort of miners and farmers he'd been seeing around town all day, people very much like the inn itself: unpretentious, but still a generally wholesome-looking bunch, nothing like the drunken rowdies he'd been afraid of. The room itself was cozy and inviting, reminding Arima of his own childhood home. He smiled a little as he slipped into a vacant chair near the fireplace.

He had only just begun to relax when he was approached by a young man, and Arima had to fight the urge to sit up and stare. He could see at once why the bath attendant had noticed this young man. Slim, fair, and graceful, he stood out among these hearty country folk like a silver coin among a handful of copper. His bright hair almost glowed in the light of the candles, and his piercing green eyes seemed to look straight into the back of Arima's mind.

"Can I get you something?" the young man asked, and his voice didn't have the cadence of a country person, either. He was definitely something out of the ordinary.

He was also looking impatient. Arima realized he had been staring for several seconds without saying anything, and also that his mouth had been hanging open slightly. He quickly pulled himself together.

"Whatever you think is good," he said. "And do you have any tea?"

A raised eyebrow communicated how seldom it was that anyone here ordered tea with their dinner - a quick glance around the room told Arima that every other person in the room was drinking beer - but he didn't look displeased. On the contrary - Arima had the oddly flattering sense that he'd just risen in this young man's estimation.

"I think I can manage that," he said, "but it will take some time."

"I am not in a hurry," said Arima. "In fact, I may want to stay the night, if there are any free rooms."

That seemed to put him on still better footing, the prospect of a profit apparently earning him some approval.

"I believe there are still rooms available," he said. "I'll have the innkeeper speak with you."

And then he glided off, presumably in search of food and tea. Arima slumped back in his chair, finding himself struck breathless.

 _Well, I think now I know why the gods sent me here._

No, that wasn't true. He still had no idea why he was here, but surely this mysterious young man tied into his quest somehow. There was something so very familiar about him, and yet Arima could have sworn he'd never seen him before in his life. Perhaps he was a parishioner from one of the temples he'd visited, or even a fellow priest? Maybe he was a member of one of the noble families who worshiped Aurite and donated to the temples. He looked like he could be a noble. Every line of his body radiated sophistication. If only he could remember...

"Hello? Excuse me?" asked a voice. Arima glanced up to find that he'd been approached by a dark-haired young man with glasses and an apron - the innkeeper, presumably. He was carrying a clay mug and a rather battered teapot.

"Ah, thank you! You have no idea how much I need that," said Arima, reaching for the tea.

The innkeeper smiled. "Your food will be out in just a few minutes. My friend says you're also looking for a room?"

Arima nodded. "I'm not sure how long I'll be staying, but..."

"Not a problem," said the innkeeper. "We can work something out. I'll have a room ready for you once the dinner rush is over, all right?"

"Take your time," Arima assured him. He didn't mind waiting. There would, after all, be food and hot tea to keep him occupied.

That, and it would give him an opportunity to observe the silver-haired young man.

* * *

Atsushi was not at all certain about his new guest.

Not that he disliked the man. On the contrary, Arima seemed to be quite a pleasant person, and it would lend the inn a bit of cachet to have such a high-ranking priest staying there. Maybe his presence would bring the establishment a little luck. He certainly wasn't any trouble, beyond his preference for fresh tea, but since Atsushi and Kinshiro had the same preferences, that was almost an advantage. Other than that, the man was perfectly agreeable, never rude or demanding, never putting on airs, always ready with a good word. He even kept his room tidy.

The only thing that unsettled Atsushi about him was that the man appeared to have no other business in the village other than to chat with Kinshiro. Oh, he'd wander off to the temple for a few hours every day, to meditate or pray or whatever it was priests did, but most of the time, he seemed perfectly content to hang around the inn, sip tea, and keep a watchful eye over Atsushi's new busboy.

Atsushi would have stepped in, except for the fact that Kinshiro didn't seem to mind. After weeks of living in a village full of people who rarely saw a book, much less sat down to read one, Kinshiro had finally found a companion who was educated, well-spoken, and refined - as thoroughly elegant, in other words, as Kinshiro himself. In moments when the daily rush had died down, Atsushi managed to catch snatches of conversation between the two of them. Arima seemed to be intent on learning as much about Kinshiro as he could - his attitudes about the world, at least, since plumbing his past was obviously out of the question. The two of them seemed to have a lot in common on that score. Arima had said his questions were because he suspected he might have met Kinshiro at some point in the past, and was trying to work out where that might have been, but Atsushi couldn't help but wonder if there might not be another reason involved somewhere.

The gods of the world were many and varied, and their attitudes towards sex and marriage were as varied as the gods themselves. Some of the more austere gods demanded that their followers practice utter celibacy. Others only demanded such sacrifices from their highest priests while tolerating liaisons between their followers. Some were quite neutral on the subject. If one of the drowsy priests of Cerulean, for example, were able to rouse themselves from their somnolence long enough to meet the man or woman of their dreams, the god didn't care if they wanted to use their beds for something other than sleeping. On the far end of the scale, there were those like Vesta and Pearlite who considered the act of joyful congress to be part of their worship, and were perfectly happy to see their followers taking one or more lovers. The god Arima served, Aurite, was one of the more moderate gods on that score. As far as Atsushi understood it, followers of Aurite were supposed to keep themselves chaste before marriage, but family units were considered part of the structure that kept society functioning. It wasn't strictly required that his priests and priestesses marry and produce or adopt children, but it was far from frowned upon, either.

Atsushi watched as Kinshiro washed the front windows. The morning sun was streaming through them, reflecting off his brilliant hair and making his green eyes shine. The water trickling down the window panes cast rippling shadows over his skin. Every time he moved his washcloth, the thin fabric of his shirt shifted over the muscles in his back and shoulders. Atsushi tore his eyes away.

 _No wonder Arima is fascinated by him._

Well, and would that really be so bad? Kinshiro was never meant to be nothing more than a busboy in a roadside inn. Even if Arima couldn't find where he'd originally belonged, he'd be able to take him back to the city and put him in a place where he could truly shine. If the two of them liked each other, wouldn't it be for the best?

But the most selfish part of him was saying, no, no, of course not. Nothing could ever be for the best if it meant that he'd never see Kinshiro again. He would miss him when he went, miss his clear, incisive way of looking at things, miss the way his serious face lit up when he smiled, miss the charming way he got flustered when the world flummoxed him with its untidiness and tendency to chaos and unpredictability. He'd miss comforting him after all of those episodes. Would anyone else be willing to do that, when he was gone?

Then Kinshiro turned away from the window, tossed his rag in the bucket of water he'd been using, and scanned the room. His gaze passed over the priest, who was still sitting in his corner reading a book and sipping tea, and fixed squarely on Atsushi. His smile warmed Atsushi down to the soles of his feet.

"All clean," said Kinshiro, crossing the room to hand him the bucket. "Now if it would only stay that way."

Atsushi laughed. "Glare at anyone who looks like they might put fingerprints on the glass. That will teach them."

Kinshiro looked amused by this remark, as Atsushi had hoped he would be.

"I'm going to finish the dishes," he said. "The lunch rush will be here soon."

Atsushi nodded and started for the kitchen. Kinshiro was right, of course. He had a superb sense of timing, and if he said the lunch rush would be starting soon, there was no need to check the clock. That meant Atsushi needed to be in the back making sure the food was going to be ready when people came in wanting it. Given that he was usually working alone in the kitchen, he tended to focus his energies on things that could be made in large batches, like stew, and started ahead of time without a lot of attention on his part, but they still required some oversight.

That was why he didn't notice at first when the rougher elements arrived. He'd been back in the kitchen, taking some meat pies out of the oven, and hadn't realized at first that his newest guests were anything out of the ordinary. It took him a moment to realize why they stood out. They were dressed wrong. The locals tended to go in for sturdy boots with thick soles, suitable for tromping around on the rocky ground, and most of them wore loose-sleeved shirts with brightly colored and embroidered vests. These men all wore calf-high boots and long belted tunics. They had to be out-of-towners, and they didn't have the look of merchants about them. Merchants, even the ones who were a little down on their luck, still tended to at least _try_ to look respectable.

"Who are those guys?" he asked Kinshiro, when the two of them passed each other behind the bar.

Kinshiro gave them a mistrustful glare. "I don't know. All they'd say was that they were thirsty and that we'd better have beer. I don't like the look of them."

"Me either," said Atsushi. "Do you think I'd better ask them to go?"

Kinshiro looked at him thoughtfully before shaking his head.

"I don't think you're the sort of person they're likely to respect," he said.

Atsushi looked at the men. The smallest of them probably weighed twenty pounds more than he did, all of it muscle, and there were six of them that he could see.

"Maybe you're right," he admitted. "All right. I guess we just try to wait them out and hope they go away on their own. And if they ask about rooms, tell them we're all booked up for the foreseeable future."

Kinshiro nodded, looking grim. "Let's hope they realize they aren't welcome."

The men did not seem to realize that they weren't welcome. They put away several mugs of beer each, growing rowdier with every new round. Many of the regular patrons began clearing out, seeking healthier climes. Those that remained watched the group with annoyed glares, muttering to each other. After the strangers had made several lewd remarks about the women passing outside, smashed a mug, and spilled a bowl of stew on the floor, Kinshiro's patience finally ran out.

"I can't take any more!" he said to Atsushi. "I'm telling them to leave."

"No, wait," said Atsushi, grabbing for his arm, but Kinshiro shook him off.

"Enough is enough," he said. "They're driving away customers. Besides, I'm sick of them."

He stalked over to their table, leaving Atushi scrambling in his wake.

"You're going to get yourself killed!" he protested, but his voice was lost in the general chaos. He stared at his friend's back, feeling a sick feeling twisting inside him. He'd managed to nurse his friend back from the brink of starvation, but that didn't mean he thought Kinshiro was ready to single-handedly take on a band of heavily muscled ruffians, any one of which was at least six inches taller than him. They were going to flatten him like a bug. The vision Atsushi had seen of the death god lurking in this room weighed heavily on his mind.

 _Please, don't let him get hurt..._

Kinshiro marched up to the head of the table, where the man who seemed to be the leader of the ruffians was sitting.

"Hey, boy," the man growled. "Are you gonna bring me another beer or what? Me and my boys are thirsty."

"No, I will not," said Kinshiro. "You've had enough. It's time for you to leave."

The man straightened on his seat, ruddy face going even redder. "You listen here, boy - either you bring me my beer or I wring your scrawny neck."

"Either you leave or I make you," Kinshiro answered levelly.

"Why, you little..."

The man surged to his feet, spewing expletives. Atsushi had only enough time to cry out before the lout swing a hamlike fist in Kinshiro's direction. Kinshiro ducked, easily avoiding the blow, and shoved the man hard with the flat of his palm, sending the lout tilting backwards so that he dropped back into his chair with a grunt. The other men at the table made outraged noises, but Kinshiro remained as calmly unaffected as a marble statue.

"Perhaps you didn't hear me the first time," he said. "You need to leave. Now."

The lout gave an incoherent snarl and lunged at him. Kinshiro darted backwards, easily avoiding the clumsy grab, but now the other men were getting to their feet and looking at him with murder in their eyes. Kinshiro regarded them with contempt, as if he couldn't believe that six large and imposing men might have even considered the possibility that they could take him on.

"You listen here, runt," the biggest of the men rumbled. "You better apologize right now, or..."

Kinshiro didn't give him a chance to finish.

One of the necessities of living in a remote village in the mountains was that of needing a weapon. If you lived in town and didn't stray beyond the borders, it wasn't a pressing need, but if you were a woodcutter or a farmer, you needed to be ready to defend yourself at any moment. There were wild animals in the mountains - bears, wolves, wild cats, even the occasional monster or demon. Most people who worked out of doors carried a bow or at least a long knife, and most of Atsushi's regular patrons were the outdoors type. As soon as the men began to move, Kinshiro made a dive and came up holding a patron's bow in one hand and an arrow in the other. In a fluid motion that spoke of long practice, he loosed the arrow. It shot over the lead man's head, removing his hat and pinning it to the wall.

"The next person who moves towards me gets an arrow in the eye," he said calmly. "You aren't wanted here. You're upsetting Atsushi, and you're annoying me. Now. _Leave._ "

For a moment, there was absolute stillness in the room. Atsushi held his breath, staring at the tableau in front of him. No, be honest - he was staring at Kinshiro. With the bow still held steadily on one hand, his back straight and head held high, the late afternoon sun blazing around him, he was truly glorious.

The standoff was broken by a man rising to his feet. It was the same old man who had broken his dish a few days before, the one Atsushi had defended from Kinshiro. Now he was levering himself carefully to his feet, raising his walking stick like a cudgel.

"You heard the lad," he rumbled. "Get yourselves out before we throw you out."

That seemed to be the tipping point. One by one, the other men in the room began to stand. Some of them raised their walking sticks as the old man had. Others raised crossbows or hunting knives. Slowly at first, but putting on speed, they arrayed themselves in a loose semicircle, putting themselves between the ruffians and the bar where Atsushi stood.

"Your kind don't belong here," one of the patrons rumbled.

"Yeah, we don't like you messing with our Atsushi's inn."

"This place is too good for the likes of you."

The muttering rose in volume and intensity. The ruffians looked uneasily at each other and began backing slowly towards the door.

"Yeah, well, we didn't want to stay here," the leader muttered. "The beer tastes like piss anyway."

He and his friends trooped out of the room. The patrons began laughing and congratulating themselves. The old miner clapped Kinshiro on the shoulder.

"That was a nice bit of shooting there, boy."

"Thank you," said Kinshiro.

He tried to hand the bow back to the man he'd taken it from, but the man pushed it back to him.

"Keep it," he said. "I have more, and looks to me like you could put it to good use."

The other men nodded.

"Too many rough characters on the roads these days," commented a farmer. "Somebody ought to have a weapon in case more people like that start hanging around here. We don't want anything to happen to our boy here."

Kinshiro cradled the bow in his hands, his eyes grave. "Don't worry. I'll use this to protect Atsushi and the inn."

That seemed to be the right answer. With a few more congratulatory words and slaps on the back all around, the regular patrons went back to their meals. Atsushi began busily drawing mugs of beer. If ever there was a time for drinks on the house, he felt this was probably it.

Once the patrons were happily enjoying their free beer, Kinshiro momentarily found himself with nothing to do. He went to join Atsushi behind the bar, still admiring his new acquisition.

"Look at this," he said. "They gave me a gift."

"I'm not surprised," said Atsushi. "You were _amazing_ , Kinshiro. The way you stood up to those guys... the way you got everyone to rally around you... it was amazing."

Kinshiro regarded him solemnly for a few seconds, his expression so grave that for a moment Atsushi wondered if somehow he had said something wrong. Then Kinshiro slowly shook his head.

"It wasn't me they were rallying around," he said. "It was you. They supported me because I was protecting you." He gently set his new prize behind the bar. "I'll just leave this here."

Then he slipped back into the crowd, leaving Atsushi to stare after him, not knowing what to say.

 **To Be Continued...**


	5. A Cup of Tea and a Chat

It was nearly midnight by the time Kinshiro finally got to bed that night. Not only had he done his usual labors, but he'd freed up an hour or two before the sun had gone down to go outside and practice with his new bow. He'd taken Arima with him for that. As it turned out, Arima's particular god was supposed to use a bow and arrows as his preferred weapon, and most of his priests were expected to have at least a passing familiarity with archery. He'd been a good coach, patient and supportive, always ready with a word of sincere congratulations when Kinshiro hit his mark - which, before the day was over, he'd been doing with great regularity. It had been nice to have the company. There was something restful about Arima, something that made Kinshiro feel they had always known each other. If Arima's suspicions were right, maybe they _had_ known each other at some point, even if neither of them could decide exactly when. Either way, it was good to have someone he could consider a friend.

Because at the moment, he really didn't know what to consider Atsushi.

Kinshiro closed the door behind him, made sure it was locked, then crossed his dark room and threw himself into his bed. _His_ bed. In the weeks since he'd come here, he'd begun thinking of this as his own personal room. He'd gradually began gathering small personal effects here. His new bow was one of these, along with a battered canvas quiver and a few arrows, now neatly propped in a corner. There were other things, too. Atsushi had insisted that he keep all the tips he earned while waiting tables, so he actually had a little money to buy things. He had a little shelf now with a few books, a tea tin, a painted mug, and his very own little kettle that he could heat over his fireplace. He had a few of his own clothes now, not just things he'd borrowed from Atsushi. He'd rearranged the furniture to make the room more to his liking. It was starting to genuinely feel like his own home. With every passing day, it grew harder to imagine ever living anywhere else, no matter what anyone else said or guessed about his past. And yet, with every passing day, he seemed to get a little closer to learning who he had originally been.

 _And a little closer to leaving for good._

He scowled. He should be eager to get out of here, after what had happened today. Those men had waltzed right into the inn as if they'd owned the place, and they hadn't met with a single bit of resistance, no matter how obnoxious they'd been. Atsushi should have thrown them out the moment they'd stepped through the door, but of course he hadn't. Atsushi never did that sort of thing to anyone. He let everyone walk all over him, even when it only encouraged people to treat him badly.

"Idiot," Kinshiro muttered. He rolled onto his side, clutching his pillow to his chest. "Stupid, naive, feather-brained..."

His throat closed up. With a noise of frustration, he threw the pillow at the wall. It didn't make him feel any better.

Today should have been a day of victory for him. He should have felt like a hero. He was the one who had taken up a weapon and driven the villains out of his turf. Only he'd been telling Atsushi the truth: that wasn't how it had been at all. All he'd done was lose his temper. If anyone was a hero, it was the man whose kindness had inspired every man in the room to stand up for him. The people here responded to Atsushi's unselfconscious kindness with intense loyalty. Kinshiro could understand why. The very things that frustrated and baffled him about Atsushi were also the things that he admired most in him. His compassion, his patience, his willingness to see the best in everyone...

 _It's funny. Why do people say I'm too good for a place like this? I'll never be able to come up to his standards..._ A small, treacherous part of him whispered, _I'll never be good enough for him._

And there it was, the thought he'd been trying not to have. He knew it was ridiculous. He couldn't stay here, he knew that. Someday he would get tired of living in this nowhere town and want to leave. Arima had already started dropping hints that there might be a place for him at the Temple of Aurite in the city he'd come from. Even if he didn't ever recover his memories, he didn't think he could ever stay in Binan forever. He just didn't know if he could tear himself away from Atsushi now that he'd gotten to know him. Seeing him smile made him feel that the world was a wonderful place. He wanted nothing more than to stay by his side and find new ways to make him smile. But would he really be willing to leave his home and all the people who loved him just for Kinshiro?

 _And if he did, would it be because he wanted to be with me, or just because he couldn't bear to disappoint me?_

It had been a long day. Every muscle in his body ached, and his eyes were heavy. There was still absolutely no way he was going to be able to sleep. With a groan, he sat up and looked around the room. The fire had burned down low while he'd been tossing and turning, but there were still a few glowing coals left. Thoughtfully, he climbed out of bed, lit a bit of kindling from the coals, and carried it over to his lamp. Before lighting it, he turned it around so that the rose-draped figure of Vesta was facing him. Fires were sacred to Vesta, who warmed the hearts of humankind. Making him an offering wouldn't hurt.

"Not that I expect you to be listening," he said aloud, "but if you are, I could stand some advice."

"I'll say," said a cheerful voice behind him.

There was a _whoosh_ as the fire in the fireplace went from banked coals to blazing flames. Kinshiro turned to see a young man leaning against the mantle, grinning at him. All Kinshiro could do was stare at him. It wasn't that he was remarkably beautiful, though he was far from unattractive. It was more that he radiated sensuality. There was an aura around him that seemed to reflect the light and warmth of the fireplace until it filled the entire room, and warmed the arrangements of dried flowers until the air smelled of a summer garden instead of a cool early spring night. In that supernatural glow, Kinshiro caught himself thinking how welcoming his room looked, how warm and cozy the firelight made it, how inviting the bed seemed. How lovely, he thought dreamily, to share this place with someone else. He could almost see how bright Atsushi's eyes would be in the lamplight, how the highlights would dance on his hair. He could almost feel his gentle, capable fingers twining through Kinshiro's hair, almost feel their lips touching. It would be so easy to tug him onto the bed and...

Kinshiro jerked himself out of the vision with such force that he staggered a few paces backwards and collided with the wall. A wreath hanging over his head shed a few bits of dried leaves and flowers into his hair, and he shook them out impatiently.

"Stop doing that!" he snapped.

Vesta grinned, looking half sheepish and half not even remotely apologetic. "Sorry. Force of habit. Most people ask me to lay it on, not tone it down."

Still, the supernatural glow in the room dimmed, and Kinshiro found he could breathe normally again.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. He should have felt awed, he supposed, talking to what was indisputably a god, but all he felt was annoyed. Who did this person think he was, playing with his emotions like that?

"You called me," said Vesta reasonably. "You made me an offering and asked me for advice. What did you want me to do, ignore you?"

Kinshiro glared but didn't quite dare reply. It didn't seem to matter. Vesta nodded as if guessing exactly what Kinshiro was thinking.

"If it's of any interest to you," he said, "that wouldn't have happened if you didn't already have feelings for the guy." His grin held nothing of apology now. "If you didn't have feelings for anyone in particular, you'd have been thinking about me instead."

"I didn't want to know that," said Kinshiro.

Vesta shrugged. "It wouldn't have done you any good anyway. I'm happily married. Twice over, even. That's all I have time for. Anyway, you're _so_ not my type."

"You're not mine either," Kinshiro retorted sourly.

"Apparently not," said Vesta. "You've got something cooking with that Atsushi guy. That's interesting."

Kinshiro raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"Because. Reasons," said Vesta. "Let's say I've been watching and wondering for a while whether anything was going to happen between you two."

"Is there any hope?" asked Kinshiro, before he had a chance to think about it.

"Well," said Vesta, "that all depends, doesn't it? I mean, let's be honest here - you've kinda got some stuff going on in your life right now, don't you?"

Kinshiro felt a flickering of interest. "Say, you're a god. Aren't you supposed to oversee all of humanity? You ought to know who I am."

"Sure, I know who you are," Vesta replied.

"Can you tell me?" Kinshiro asked.

"I could," said Vesta slowly. "I mean, there's no actual rule against it. You have to understand, though, there will be consequences if I do. Are you ready for that?"

"What kind of consequences?" He should have known there would be a catch somewhere.

"It's like this," said Vesta. "I could tell you exactly who you are. I could fix it so you'd remember everything you've forgotten. The catch, though, is that if I tell you all that? Any chance you have with Atsushi goes out the window. You only get one shot at this, okay? No fair saying you want your memories and then changing your mind later."

Kinshiro scowled. He didn't say, "That's not fair." He knew it was fair. It was eminently fair, and that was what bothered him: because he had no reasonable grounds to complain. His memories were an integral part of who he was. If he wanted his old life back, he was going to have to pay with something he valued as much as his life.

"No deal," he said. "I'll recover my memories, or not, on my own. The price is too high."

Vesta beamed so brightly it lit the room again.

"Good choice," he said. "Maybe this will work out after all."

"You don't know if it will work or not?" Kinshiro asked. "Aren't you supposed to be a god?"

"I am," he said, "but I figured out a long time ago that forced love doesn't last, even with a god's power behind it. I'm more like your new buddy the gardener. He doesn't create the plants, he just helps them grow. I know when two people are compatible and when they aren't. I create opportunities, I give a nudge here and a little encouragement there, I move obstacles out of the way."

"So make yourself useful and move a few for me," said Kinshiro, exasperated, "because I truly have no idea what to do next."

Vesta grinned. "Well, for starters, you could tell Atsushi that you're not interested in that priest. He's getting jealous."

"What?" Kinshiro exclaimed. It nearly came out as a yelp. "What do you mean, he..."

"Gotta go now. Bye!" Vesta chirped, and vanished.

He took all the firelight with him. Kinshiro found himself standing in complete darkness, blinking and disoriented.

"You can't just leave like that!" he complained to the empty air. He didn't get any answers, but he didn't expect one. Gods, apparently, could do whatever they very well pleased, whether he liked it or not.

Still, he mused, the encounter had not been altogether unenlightening. He would have to think long and hard about the full meaning of what the god had told him. Maybe, with some luck, he could figure this out after all.

And with that thought in mind, he crossed the darkened room and went back to bed.

* * *

The discovery of Kinshiro's skill with a bow had one very practical application. When it came to running the inn, Atsushi's single greatest expense was food. He had to make sure he had enough on hand to satisfy any crowd that might show up, but not so much that it would spoil and need to be thrown out if business was slow. It was a delicate balancing act, and his unwillingness to risk letting a guest go hungry often meant he erred on the side of having too much rather than too little. It was a strain on his financial reserves, which were slender at the best of times. The fact that Kinshiro was capable of shooting things meant that he could occasionally go out into the forest and bring in fresh game. It was rarely anything spectacular - just squirrels and birds and the occasional rabbit - but it made Atsushi's life easier.

It also annoyed him. He'd grown accustomed to spending those idle moments with Kinshiro. He'd enjoyed having someone to talk to and share a cup of tea with, and now he had lost some of that precious time. He'd have rather had the time with Kinshiro than save a bit of money, but when he'd begun to clumsily broach the subject, Kinshiro had pointed out that he was being impractical, and Atsushi had let the matter drop. That didn't mean, however, that he hadn't been brooding about the matter in the privacy of his own head.

"You," said a voice, cutting into his thoughts, "have the look of a man in need of a cup of tea. May I?"

Atsushi nearly dropped the dish he'd been scrubbing. Arima had wandered into the kitchen, and was looking at Atsushi with compassion in his warm brown eyes. Not that having him in the kitchen was anything unusual. In the time he'd been staying in the inn, he'd refused to drink anything but tea, and since that required a certain amount of effort, what with the boiling of water and steeping of leaves, he'd politely requested that he be allowed to enter the kitchen and make it himself. Atsushi had seen no reason to deny such a reasonable and time-saving request. If he couldn't trust a priest of law and order, who could he trust?

"Yes," he said. "Thank you, I would like a cup of tea, now that you mention it."

Arima smiled and nodded before drifting over to where the kettle was awaiting his attention. While Atsushi went back to scrubbing, Arima put the water on to boil and began setting out the strainer. He reached for the battered tea tin that lived on the top shelf of the spice rack, peered inside, and then put it back where he'd found it.

"Something a bit more special today, I think," he said, apparently to himself.

He wandered out of the kitchen, leaving Atsushi staring after him, confused. Sometime later, though, Arima returned again, cradling a small box in both hands, as if it were a precious relic.

Which, as it turned out, was almost the truth.

"Where did that come from?" Atsushi asked, eyeing the box. It was made of carved wood, obviously of fine craftsmanship, and inlaid with symbols he couldn't decipher.

"It was in my luggage," said Arima. He set the box on the counter and peered at the kettle to see how the water was coming along. "Tea is an important part of the faith. Did you know that? We're to refrain from strong drink, since it might cloud our judgement and cause us to behave rashly. Tea clears the mind and encourages patience. Many of our holy ceremonies incorporate it, so I always have some on hand."

Atushi stared at the box with new respect. "So this is... holy tea?"

"It's tea," said Arima. "The rituals are holy. The tea is just tea. Quite nice tea, though. Too good to keep all to myself."

The kettle began to sing, and he fetched it deftly off its hook and began spooning tea leaves out of his box and setting them to steep. Soon the usual scents of the kitchen were undercut by the refreshing scent of good tea. Atsushi finished his washing and went to stand next to Arima, who was standing with commendable patience as he waited for the brew to reach its perfect degree of readiness before pouring two cups through the strainer. He did it very elegantly, with the ease of long practice. Atsushi was impressed. No wonder Arima preferred to do this himself rather than wait for someone to do it for him.

"Here," said Arima, offering him a cup. "Careful, it's hot. Shall we carry these to a table?"

The main dining room was nearly empty, with only a few of the local old men sitting in a corner, playing cards and arguing with each other. Atsushi knew from past observations that he could do anything from insulting their grandmothers to offering them free beer without getting a reaction out of them. They were all quite deaf, but they had been having the same conversations and the same arguments with each other for so many years now that it didn't seem to matter. He led Arima to an empty table some distance away and settled in with his drink. He had to admit, it was excellent tea.

"Your mind seems troubled," said Arima. "Is there something you want to talk about?"

Was there? Atsushi had to stop and think about that. His first instinct was to not complain, especially to this near-stranger, to say that everything was fine and nothing was worrying him at all. He quickly squelched that idea. He had a feeling that for all this man's quiet mien and dreamy ways, he didn't miss much. But where could Atsushi even begin? Was he supposed to say that he suspected Arima of trying to court Kinshiro? That he was still haunted by the appearance of a death god in his inn and the strange dreams he'd been having? That he was worried about Kinshiro recovering his memories and going back to wherever he'd come from?

"Why are you here?" he blurted.

Arima regarded him with a politely puzzled expression. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're the head priest of a major religion," Atsushi replied. "There's nothing special in Binan. What are you here for?"

"The truth is, I'm not sure," Arima admitted. "I was led here by a dream that told me I would find what I was searching for in this town."

"Oh," said Atsushi. That wasn't quite the definite answer he'd been looking for. "What are you searching for?"

Arima spread his hands. "I don't know that either. All I know is that there is something very wrong, and that the solution to the problem is here somewhere."

"What do you mean, something is very wrong? Did something happen?" Asushi asked.

"It's hard to say," said Arima. "Here is what I know..."

He talked. Atsushi listened with increasing amazement. It was strange enough to think that a god could just disappear like that, leaving the world to do as it would. Even stranger was the thought that the solution to a universe-altering problem could be hidden in a little place like Binan. He wasn't sure whether he respected Arima for his faith in coming here, or simply wondered about his rationality.

"So have you found anything?" he asked.

"Well..." said Arima evasively.

Suspicion crystalized in Atsushi's mind, and he sat up straight, setting his teacup down with a clack.

"You think it's something to do with Kinshiro!" he said.

"I think so, yes," Arima agreed. "He turned up here, apparently out of nowhere, with no memory and no clue of where he might have come from or how he might have gotten here. I've been questioning him about articles of the faith, getting his opinions, and even though he denies knowing anything about Aurite or his followers, his beliefs match up perfectly to every point of doctrine. I can't help but believe that there is something very special about him."

Atsushi stared into the depths of his drink, taking in this information.

"So... you think... what? That Kinshiro is some sort of 'chosen one' or something?" he asked at last.

"I think that may be one possibility," Arima agreed. "I do think that he somehow embodies the solution I'm looking for. Therefore, I intend to stay near and observe him until an answer reveals itself."

"Oh," said Atsushi. Relief began to uncoil inside him. "You were spending so much time together, I was beginning to think you were... you know, interested in him." At Arima's blank look, he added, "Priests of Aurite marry, right?"

Arima's expression became mildly indignant. "I am completely devoted to the service of my god. No one else could ever compete for my attention."

"I see," said Atsushi. "Sorry to have misinterpreted you."

Arima's smile was understanding. "He talks about you a lot, you know, when you aren't around."

Atsushi strove to keep his expression neutral. "Oh?"

"Yes. He thinks highly of you." Arima stood up, collecting the empty cups as he did. "Thank you for joining me. It's always better to have tea with company."

"Ah," said Atsushi, thrown by the sudden swerve in the conversation. "You're welcome."

"You know," said Arima, "I've been here long enough to have learned some of the ropes. If you ever need a break from running this place, I wouldn't mind watching things for an hour or so. I can cook," he added helpfully.

It took Atushi a moment to realize what Arima was offering him. Then he began to smile.

"That's very generous of you," he said.

Arima made a solemn half-bow. "I live to serve."

He washed the dishes, too. Atsushi couldn't help but be impressed. He wouldn't have expected that sort of thing from someone so important, but he surely wasn't going to fight about it. Instead, he refreshed the drinks of the old men on the other side of the room and began checking over the bar area to make sure all was in readiness for the dinner rush. After about an hour, Kinshiro returned carrying a game bag and looking pleased with himself.

"I brought dinner," he announced, as he strode toward the kitchen.

Atsushi smiled. "That's great. Glad to hear it!"

"You're in a cheerful mood," Kinshiro observed.

"Arima's offered to watch the inn later," Atsushi replied. "We can both take a break tonight and do something fun."

"Ah," said Kinshiro. He looked a little uncertain. "All right. That might be nice."

"Is something wrong?" Atsushi asked. He'd been encouraged by the news that Arima didn't have designs on Kinshiro - not romantic ones, anyway - but if the opposite wasn't true...

"No, it's fine," said Kinshiro hurriedly. "It's a good idea. Let's do it."

"Once the dinner rush slacks off, then," said Atsushi.

Kinshiro nodded. "It will be good for us to have time to talk." He handed his bag to Atsushi. "Why don't I take care of the front while you deal with these?"

Atsushi nodded. "I'll see if Arima will help. He did say he could cook. We'll see if he's telling the truth."

He started for the kitchen in a cautiously optimistic frame of mind. Maybe tonight things would change for the better.

And if not, at least he'd found some help in the kitchen.

* * *

Kinshiro looked out his window. The sun had gone down, and now the stars were beginning to come out. That was something he would miss if he ever left this place. The thin clear air of the mountains made for superlative stargazing. He doubted he'd be able to see this many stars if he moved to a city full of smoky air and lights blazing at all hours. He'd asked Arima a bit about what the cities were like, and he wasn't sure he approved of them.

 _I don't fit in the country, but I don't fit in the city, either. Where do I belong?_

"Kinshiro? Are you ready?" asked a voice outside his door.

"Just a moment," he said.

He closed his window and took one final look in his mirror. After a hard day of work, he'd wanted to take the time to put his hair in order, to wash his face, and to change into clothes that were, if not particularly fine, at least _clean_. It was likely that Atsushi was only looking at this outing as nothing more than a simple break from the daily grind, but Kinshiro had made up his mind to make it something more. If the gods wanted to play games with him, fine. He would go on the offensive.

He opened the door to his room and found Atsushi waiting for him. He'd cleaned himself up too, Kinshiro noticed. He hoped that was a good sign.

"So, where are we going?" he asked.

"Why don't we just walk around town and see what looks interesting?" Atsushi suggested. He ran a hand through his hair, looking sheepish. "To tell the truth, I don't get much time off, so I don't really know what there is to do for fun."

Kinshiro couldn't help but smile and shake his head. "I had a feeling."

They went out. They exited through the back door, on Kinshiro's orders - if they passed through the front, it was a certainty that one of them would see something that needed doing and they would never get out of the building. Instead, they went out the back way, past the wood pile and the clay pots where Atsushi grew a few herbs to flavor the food, and on into the forest. Kinshiro liked the forest. He'd had time to explore it and get to know its paths. It wasn't part of the city or the town. It was its own place, and it didn't care who he was or where he would ultimately end up. There were no expectations for him there.

"Are you sure this is safe?" asked Atsushi, looking at the trees around them with trepidation.

"It's fine," Kinshiro assured him. "As long as we don't get too far away from town and stick to the trail, we shouldn't run into anything dangerous. Too many humans pass this way for animals to want to get close."

That much was true. Though little more than a track, the path was frequented by miners, hunters, wood-cutters, herb-gatherers, and anyone else who had business in the forest. Kinshiro had used it many times and had never seen anything more threatening than a deer. His words seemed to reassure Atsushi, so the two of them began strolling slowly along the path. The track was narrow, giving them just enough room to walk side by side. Sometimes there wasn't even that much room. Every time their shoulders or hands brushed, Kinshiro felt a tiny thrill, and was glad that it was dark. He didn't want Atsushi to see him blushing. This was going to be hard enough as it was.

The trail wound around the side of the mountain, angling steadily upwards until it finally came to a place where the trees cleared to give a clear view of the village below. This time of the day, many of the people of the village were still awake, though the sun had already set, and the town glittered with lamplight.

"Let's stop here a moment," Kinshiro suggested.

Atsushi nodded. He was a bit breathless from the climb already. The two of them sat down on the edge of the path, their feet dangling over the ledge. The spring air was warm and full of the sound of night birds and insects. The moon crept slowly over the horizon, round and yellow against a deep blue sky.

"I'm glad you talked me into this," said Atsushi. "This is really beautiful. Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it," Kinshiro answered.

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, not looking at each other, hands not quite touching on the pebbly ground.

"Atsushi..." Kinshiro began, and at the same time, Atsushi said, "Kinshiro..."

They stared at each other. Atsushi began to laugh.

"You go first," he said.

"Ah," said Kinshiro. "I just wanted to say..." He fumbled for words, took a breath, and tried again. "I thought you should know that there's nothing between Arima and me."

"I know," said Atushi.

Kinshiro's head snapped up. "You... what?"

"I mean, I knew he wasn't interested in you that way," said Atsushi. "We had a talk earlier. I wasn't sure how you felt about him."

"He's good company," said Kinshiro. "I'd like to think he's my friend. Not more than that."

"Oh," said Atsushi. "Is there something between us?"

Kinshiro turned away, looking off at the stars. "I don't know. Do you want there to be?"

"Maybe. I mean... yes," said Atsushi. "I think you're really special. No matter how things turn out, I want to be with you."

"Even if it turns out that I can't stay here?" Kinshiro asked. He turned to look at Atsushi's expression, meeting his eyes. The warmth he saw there made his heart race.

Atsushi shrugged and offered a half-smile. "If it comes to that? The village can manage without an inn better than I can manage without you."

"Atsushi..." For a moment, Kinshiro couldn't find the words to say. Then he raised his chin and said, "I won't leave you behind. If I leave, I'll take you with me, but if I have to choose between leaving and staying here forever, I'll stay. I wouldn't be able to stand missing you."

Atsushi moved his hand just enough to cover Kinshiro's. His smile should have been enough to chase the stars away and turn the darkness into daylight.

"I'm glad," he said.

"So am I," said Kinshiro. "I'm glad we had this talk."

"Me too," said Atsushi.

They sat there for a moment, not releasing each other's hands, not quite able to meet each other's eyes.

 _This is ridiculous,_ thought Kinshiro. He reached out with one hand, tucked it firmly behind Atsushi's head, pulled him close and kissed him.

The first thing to register was the texture of Atsushi's hair, how smooth it was, how cool it felt in the warm spring air. Then all he could think about was the warmth of Atsushi's lips against his, the way Atsushi's body was slowly relaxing against him, his hands coming up to tentatively stroke Kinshiro's hair and trace patterns down his back.

There, in that starlit place that was neither the village nor the city, Kinshiro finally knew where he belonged. He belonged in Atsushi's arms. As long as he could have that, nothing else really mattered.

 _This is where I'm going to stay,_ he promised himself. _Forever._

 **To Be Continued...  
**


	6. Festivities and Fate

The Spring Market had arrived.

Normally, Binan was a sleepy little town that didn't attract much attention from anyone. Once a year, though, they held a festival, inviting farmers and merchants from all the neighboring farms, villages, and even the nearest large cities to come show off the fruits of their labors. There would be food vendors and jugglers and game booths and people dancing in the village square. As a boy, Atsushi had sometimes been able to convince his parents to let him go into town on his own and enjoy the festivities. In fact, he still had a little carved wooden horse that he'd won himself at a ring-toss game. Once he'd been old enough to really start working, though, his leisure to visit festivals had been cut back considerably, and when he's started running the Cloverleaf full time, it had disappeared altogether. Only not this year. This year, Kinshiro and Arima had convinced him that they would be just fine watching the inn for a couple of hours while Atsushi did the shopping and saw a few of the sights. Atsushi knew best what needed to be bought, and how much it was supposed to cost, so he was the best man for the job, and he could hardly argue with them when they said he should be the one to go. Once the shopping was done, he would trade off with one of the other two and let them have a turn at seeing the sights. He was sorry that he and Kinshiro would not be able to go together, but he hoped that later, when the whole town would be gathered around the bonfire meadow for drinking and dancing, the two of them could...

Someone collided with him from behind, nearly making him drop his groceries.

"Hey!" a rough voice snarled. "Watch where you're going, you little brat!"

"I'm sorry," said Atsushi automatically. And then, "Wait, you're the one who ran into me!"

The speaker gripped his shoulder and jerked him around. This time Atsushi really did drop his bag, spilling vegetables into the street. He yelped in outrage and dismay.

"Look at you, half-blind whelp..." the stranger grumbled. He made a clumsy grab at Atsushi's spectacles. He was obviously more than half drunk.

"Hey, stop that," Atsushi protested, pushing his glasses back in place. He scanned the street, looking for escape routes. The crowds were thick enough that any sort of hasty retreat would be difficult. This sort of thing, he thought, was so much easier when he was on his own ground, and he could just ask one of the burlier regulars to haul the offender out.

"Not till you apologize," said the drunk, advancing on him.

"He did apologize," said a new voice, sounding almost bored, "so maybe you should go away, huh?"

Atsushi and the drunk both turned to face the speaker. It was the same sleepy-eyed young priest Atsushi had spoken to the other day. He smiled at Atsushi.

"Nice to see you again," he said.

Atsushi grinned back. "Nice to see you again, too."

The drunk looked from En to Atsushi and back again, apparently weighing his options. Atsushi wasn't the most imposing man in the world, but he was still a good six inches taller than the drunk, and En was a match for him in height. The drunk might have been willing to start something with Atsushi alone, but two on one did not seem to be the sort of odds he liked.

"Ah, forget it," he grumbled, and stomped off.

Atsushi breathed a little sigh of relief. "Thanks for the timely arrival."

"No problem," said En. He knelt and began helping Atsushi gather up the things he'd dropped. Atsushi crouched beside him and started scooping everything back into his bag.

"What are you doing here?" Atsushi asked. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, but don't you have, I don't know, festival things to do today?"

En stood up, striking a noble pose.

"The gods have decreed," he said grandly, "that today there shall be absolutely no rituals, rites, observances, or anything else like that. Today is completely devoid of any religious significance whatsoever. I'm off duty."

Atsushi laughed. "Then why not come back to the inn? You can have a drink on me."

En smiled. "Sounds worth celebrating."

The two of them wove their way back through the town, taking their time. En didn't seem to be the sort who ever moved faster than an amble unless he could help it, but today Atsushi didn't mind. It was nice to be able to stop and look at all the entertainments. En was good company, too. He seemed to be the sort who liked to talk about things - any sort of thing, no matter how odd or apparently trivial, as long as it caught his attention.

 _I suppose if you're a priest, you get used to thinking deep thoughts,_ Atsushi mused as they walked.

"So how are things going for you?" En asked him. "Any more bad dreams?"

"No. No bad dreams," said Atsushi, not quite meeting En's eyes. It was more or less the truth, just not the whole truth. His unsettling dreams about gods and legends had tapered off in the last few days. Ever since his conversation with Kinshiro on the mountainside, his mind had found other things to occupy itself with. During the day, they were mostly too busy to do much more than steal a quick touch as they passed each other in the kitchen, and anyway the constant presence of a priest in the building was a bit dampening, but when he was alone in the privacy of his head, well...

"That's good," said En. "I hate it when I get bad dreams. When I do, I'm supposed to _do_ something about them."

Atsushi smiled. "That must be awful."

"It's a pain," En agreed.

They walked in silence for a moment, watching a clown making his way through the crowd pulling sweets from children's ears. Atsushi weighed his next words with care before finally saying them.

"There's a priest staying at my inn now," he ventured. "Arima. High priest of Aurite."

En nodded slowly. "Yeah. I know him. He's a good guy."

"He says something has happened to Aurite. That he disappeared and no one knows why."

"That's definitely a thing that happened."

Atsushi slanted a sideways look at him. "Do you know anything about that?"

"Some." En looked uncomfortable. "This is getting into really deep water. I could do with a snack, couldn't you?"

Atsushi recognized a cue when he heard one. They stopped at a stand that was selling steamed buns filled with sweet red bean paste. Aside from being tasty, they were the preferred sacrifice to Cerulean. En seemed to approve, and ate them with more enthusiasm than Atsushi had yet seen him show to anything.

"Okay, where was I?" En said at last.

"Aurite," Atsushi prompted.

"Yeah. Yeah, right." He looked uncomfortable. "Okay, there's serious stuff going on here, and I do know something about it. I'm sorry for keeping secrets, but... look, this isn't the right time or place. All these people..." He waved a hand at the chattering crowd. "How about later, okay? Tonight. I'll come by later tonight and tell you whatever I can."

"Thanks," said Atsushi. "I appreciate that. Can you tell me one thing, though?"

En gave him a flat look that Atsushi interpreted as, "This had better be important."

Atsushi persisted. "Are you only talking to me now because of the thing with the gods?"

En took a moment to think about that. He idly ran a hand through his hair as he stared off at the sky. Since his fingers were still sticky from eating, this created an interesting effect.

"Let me put it like this," he said. "All the signs point to things getting pretty rough really soon, and since you're involved, they're probably going to be pretty hard on you. I figured you could use a friend."

Atsushi turned that over in his mind for a moment, then nodded. "That sounds good to me. I'll take all the friends I can get."

"Good," said En. He smiled. "Just don't expect me to start working at that inn of yours."

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Atsushi seriously.

His choice of words seemed to amuse En, and he began to laugh. Atsushi smiled. It seemed to be as good a place as any to end the conversation.

They reached the inn to find that the crowd had swelled while Atsushi had been away, with nearly every seat occupied and several people leaning against the walls or clustered around the fireplace. Atsushi lingered just long enough to get En parked in a corner and shove a drink into his hands, and then he dashed into the kitchen to start salvaging the situation before Arima and Kinshiro could have a breakdown.

"Why didn't someone come and get me?" Atsushi protested, as he elbowed Arima out of the way and took over at the cutting board.

"And leave only one of us here to face all this while the other one hunted all over town for you?" Kinshiro scoffed. He grabbed a platter of meat pies and made for the door. "Besides, it only got this bad a few minutes ago."

Arima nodded, gratefully moving out of Atsushi's way and taking over the less demanding job of dishing up orders of the soup of the day. "We tried sending one of the neighborhood children to ask at the bath if Yumoto could come lend a hand, but they're as swamped as we are."

"We'll manage," said Atsushi. He was already dicing and peeling vegetables at top speed. "Arima, you man the bar. If I stay back here cooking and Kinshiro cleans tables, I think we'll have everything covered."

For the next two hours, the three of them worked at top speed, dishing out food and drinks in a whirl of activity. By the time the rush began to slack off at last, Atsushi was aching and sweaty, and Kinshiro didn't look much better. Arima, less used to the labor, found a vacant chair and collapsed into it.

"I'm really sorry about this," said Atsushi. "You didn't sign up for this kind of work. I'll make it up to you somehow."

"It's fine. I volunteered," said Arima. He sounded breathless.

"I'll put the kettle on," said Kinshiro. "Tea will make us all feel better."

"I'll do it," said Arima, scrambling to his feet.

Atsushi and Kinshiro exchanged knowing smiled as their friend bustled around the kitchen with renewed vigor. Tea, apparently, was enough to help him overcome anything.

"I think we got through the day somehow," Kinshiro remarked, peering through the kitchen door. "Everyone seems to be clearing out at last."

Atsushi smiled. "We make a good team."

"We do," Kinshiro agreed.

"Do you know what I think?" said Atsushi. "I think we should close up the kitchen for a while and let everyone eat somewhere else. We'll lock the doors and go out and relax for a bit. We've earned it."

"Now that is a good idea," said Arima. He set tea cups in front of both of them.

"I agree. Just let me catch my breath for a minute," said Kinshiro. He delicately raised his cup to his lips and sighed gratefully. "Arima, you truly have a gift."

Arima looked pleased despite his exhaustion. "It's all part of my job."

After they had finished their drinks, Atsushi chased the last few customers out of the building. He didn't find En, and wondered where he'd slipped off to. Ah, well. He didn't seem like the kind who would break his promises. He would turn up when he was ready. In the meantime, there was a fair to look forward to. The thought raised his spirits. This would be the first time in years that he would be able to actually enjoy some of the fun instead of slaving in the kitchen all day. He was looking forward to sharing everything with his companions. And maybe, if he was lucky, he and Kinshiro would have the chance for a little privacy. The chance to spend time relaxing together would be wonderful.

With that cheerful thought in mind, Atsushi followed his companions out of the inn and locked up behind himself with his seldom-used front door key.

"All right, guys," he said, flashing a smile. "Let's make the most of this."

He beckoned for his friends to follow him. In his mind, he already knew how the day would go: first the fair, then a meal somewhere that he didn't have to cook himself, then a long soak at the bath house to end the day.

As it turned out, he couldn't have been more wrong.

* * *

Kinshiro had gotten used to never going out without his bow and arrows. It had become part of his job. Atsushi went out when they needed vegetables, Kinshiro went out when he needed to shoot things. Even on those rare nights when they found time to go relax at the bath house, he took his bow with him. After all, the bath house was a ways out of the town, and it was usually after dark by the time he and Atsushi managed to get out there. He didn't worry about wild animals, but with the number of highwaymen on the roads increasing all the time, he did worry about the human sort of animals. Anyway, it made him feel better. Something deep inside him said he was supposed to have a bow and arrows, and having to leave them behind for any length of time made him profoundly uneasy.

 _Maybe Arima is right about me,_ he mused as he left the inn. Maybe he had been part of the faith at some point in his life. He wasn't sure he completely believed it, but it made more sense to him than any of the other theories about his origins he'd heard.

"They sell food at these festivals, don't they?" he asked Atsushi.

"Always," said Atsushi. "Why, are you hungry?"

"Not very. I was just thinking that if the Kurotama was as busy as we were today, they might appreciate a gift. They help us often enough. It would be fair."

"You're right," Atsushi agreed. "All right, we'll look around a bit, check out the food stalls, decide what they might enjoy most, and then we can all have a bath."

"That sounds like a perfect way to end the day," Arima agreed.

So for a little while, they strolled around town, watching the jugglers and dancers and casually weighing the merits of various eating establishments. In the end, they collected a basket of sweets for the two brothers, and Kinshiro had won a handsome tooled leather pouch from a ball toss game.

"You can have it," he said to Atsushi, offering it to him. "I don't really need it."

"Are you sure?" Atsushi asked. "You're the one who won it..."

Kinshiro gave him an irritated look. "I wouldn't have offered if I wanted to keep it."

Atsushi laughed and accepted the gift. "You always sound so cranky when you're trying to be nice. Thank you." He bent to kiss Atsushi's cheek, which almost made up for being called "cranky".

"Are we done?" Arima asked. "Not that this hasn't been pleasant, but I'm ready for my bath now."

"As am I," Kinshiro agreed. He looked down at his hands and grimaced slightly. When Atsushi had first taken him in, they had been white and smooth as any nobleman's. Now they were roughened by work, and there was a burn on the side of one hand where he'd brushed it against a hot pan earlier in the week. No one would mistake him for a nobleman anymore. He wasn't sure how to feel about that. There was a nagging sense in the back of his mind that he was a man of quality, and shouldn't have to let himself be degraded this way. At the same time, he had been doing honest work, earning his keep and making Atsushi's life - and by extension, the lives of the villagers - a little bit easier. He couldn't help but be proud of that. He decided not to think about it and merely enjoy the thought that at least his much-abused hands would soon be clean.

The closer they got to the bath house, the more the crowds from the fair thinned out. Kinshiro appreciated that. It was exhausting for him to spend all his time surrounded by loud and often dirty strangers who made demands on his time. The reason he had taken to hunting so readily was less because he enjoyed killing small animals and more because it gave him an excuse to get away from the crowds. Now he breathed more easily as they left the press of the throngs behind him, and the air began to smell less of cooking food and unwashed bodies, and more of the scent of pine needles and moldering leaves. Without thinking about it, he reached for Atsushi's hand, and Atsushi took it and gave it a gentle squeeze. Kinshiro smiled a little. Life was good. At times like this, he could tell himself he'd be happy if things went on like this forever and almost make himself believe it.

They were approaching a bend in the road when something made him freeze. He stopped walking, and Atsushi, still holding his hand, was pulled to a stop with him. Arima barely avoided walking into both of them.

"What's..." Atsushi began, and Kinshiro shushed him.

"I don't know," he said. "I thought..."

He didn't finish the sentence. What had made him stop? He held himself perfectly still, testing his senses. Had he heard something, the crack of a twig, the murmur of a low voice? Had he caught a whiff of a dirty human body? Maybe. It wasn't impossible that someone else had gotten the same idea of coming here to unwind after a hectic day. So why were they so still and silent now?

"I don't like this," he said. "I think we should..."

A crashing and crunching of heavy boots was almost enough warning. Surging out of the underbrush came a troop of burly men carrying crude weapons. Kinshiro was holding his bow and nocking an arrow before he'd even had time to think about it. Arima groaned.

"Aurite's arrows, not this again," he swore.

"Oh, so you remember me?" the largest of the bandits said, grinning and showing a distinct lack of teeth. "I sure remembered you after you left me tied up to rot. Lucky for me, I had a few friends you didn't know about."

"I should have killed you when I had the chance," said Arima evenly.

"You won't have any more chances," the robber said. "You're going to pay for what you did to me."

Atsushi was looking frightened and more than a little mystified.

"Look," he said, "I'm not sure what's going on here, but I'm sure there's just some misunderstanding..."

"Shut up," the leader of the bandits barked. "No more talking."

Kinshiro raised his bow. He could feel his heart racing, but his voice remained steady as he said, "If any of you takes another step closer, you won't like what I do next."

The leader laughed. "I'd like to see you try it. You're outnumbered, boy. You might get one arrow loose but you'd be dead before you could reach the second one. Just like your friend here is about to be dead. Men, finish him."

The world seemed to slow down. Kinshiro had time to see two men stepping forward, drawing knives. He watched as if in a dream as Arima half-turned, shock and horror suffusing his face. He heard Atsushi cry "No!" and saw him lunge forward to push Arima out of the way. He saw the knives come down...

His mind went blank. He couldn't think, but his hands knew what to do, and suddenly arrows were whizzing through the air as thick and fast as raindrops in a storm. The bandits never had a chance to see what was coming. They just fell, arrows protruding from their eyes or throats or chests. One second, Kinshiro had been standing at the center of a ring of live highwaymen. In the next, he was standing at the center of a circle of dead bodies.

He didn't spare them a glance. He dropped to his knees next to the two other bodies that lay in the center of the circle. Arima was picking himself up, shaking off the daze that had followed hitting the ground so unexpectedly. Atsushi was not getting up. He was just lying there, eyes open and unseeing. There was blood on his throat, spilling down the front of his shirt and onto the ground. It was still flowing, but already beginning to slow. The men who had made the cuts had done their work efficiently.

"Atsushi?" It didn't sound like Kinshiro's voice. He always sounded so confident, but now he could hear little more than a thready squeak. "Atsushi..."

Arima gently put a hand on Kinshiro's shoulder. "I'm sorry. This shouldn't have... I'm sorry."

"No," said Kinshiro, shoving his hand away. He surged to his feet, turning in place with his hands clenching his bow so hard it should have snapped, looking wildly around himself. He wanted someone to argue with, someone to appeal to, something he could do to make this horrible mess go away. There had to be a way to fix it. This was a mistake. Atsushi wasn't... wasn't supposed to...

There was a shimmer in the air, and a young man stepped into view. He looked like a young man, anyway, but Kinshiro wasn't fooled. There was a faint golden aura about him that couldn't be mistaken for anything from the mortal world. Arima stared, open-mouthed, momentarily shocked out of his grief. Kinshiro just scowled. Sulfur ignored both of them, picking his way through the dead bandits with obvious distaste. Instead, he made his way directly towards Atsushi and moved to kneel beside him.

"Leave him alone!" Kinshiro shouted.

Sulfur looked at him, expression unreadable. "It won't make him less dead if I do."

He made a winding motion, gathering something from the air above Atsushi's chest. It accumulated around his fingers in a glowing mass, sparkling the vivid green of emeralds - no, nothing so sharp or hard - like sunlight through summer leaves. He cupped it gently, almost reverently, in both hands.

 _Atsushi's soul..._ It was so beautiful, and it was going away.

"No," he said, his voice tight. "You can't have him. _Please._ "

Another shimmer. A second god appeared, standing a few yards off, watching the proceedings with dreamy eyes.

"Why?" he asked. He didn't sound scornful. He sounded curious, as if Kinshiro's answer was of genuine interest to him.

"Because I can't let him go," said Kinshiro. "We promised to be together. He can't leave me..."

Another shimmer, this one filling the air with a momentary warmth, and then Vesta was standing across from Cerulean.

"Love isn't enough to stop death," he said seriously. "Nearly everyone in the world has someone who loves them when they die."

"But it's not fair!" Kinshiro protested.

Another shimmer, this one carrying a scent of flowers, and Kinshiro turned around to see Pearlite standing behind him.

"Oh, no," he said. "It's absolutely fair. All humans die. Some of them do it while they're still young. None of those people have had the gods say, 'Ah, it seems we've made a mistake,' and put them back the way they were. Why should this man be any different?"

"Because he's better than them!" said Kinshiro.

"He is a good man," said Sulfur. "He lived a good life and he died a hero's death. He will go to the Land of the Blessed Dead and enjoy an endless afterlife of peace and pleasure. What more could you want for him?"

"You don't understand!" Kinshiro snapped. "It's not just about what I want. It's about _him_. He was a good person - he made the world a better place by being in it. He was kind to everyone and made them want to be kinder in return. He forgave people and tried to understand them. _He_ wasn't fair. He was _better_ than fair, and he made me want to be better too."

Something like a sigh went around the little circle of gods. They visibly relaxed, their serious eyes brightening, and Kinshiro began to hope that maybe...

"He figured it out!" said a laughing voice. "See! See! He figured it out! I told you he would! Didn't I tell you, Big Brother?"

"Yes, you did," said a voice. This one was deeper, more authoritative, and definitely amused. Kinshiro turned around slowly, almost dreading what he was about to see.

Coming up the road were two figures. He had never seen them before, but he'd heard Arima describing them during those discussions of theology they'd shared over tea. The little one was Scarlet, the capricious little god of chance, who made things happen or not happen according to his own unfathomable will. And behind him was his older brother, first among the gods, Fate himself, whose holy blade cut away all possibilities save for That Which Must Be.

Apparently they also ran a bath house in their spare time. If the situation had been anything other than what it was, Kinshiro would have been fascinated. Nearby, Arima made an inarticulate little noise, apparently overwhelmed by the presence of so many deities, even if none of them were his.

"What did I figure out?" Kinshiro asked. "I don't understand anything."

"Oh, but you do," said Gora gravely - it was hard for Kinshiro to think of him as Fate, even now. "You figured out the most important thing. That means it's time for you to understand some other things. Come here."

Kinshiro cast a glance backwards at Sulfur, who was still cradling Atsushi's soul in his hands. Then he resolutely turned back towards Gora. He didn't know what was going on here, but he understood that any slim chance he might have at getting Atsushi back hinged on getting these gods to cooperate with him. He took the few steps it took to carry him closer to Gora and look up into his eyes. Had he realized, before, just how tall the man was? The axe slung casually over his shoulder didn't help. It helped even less when Gora slowly raised the axe, and, even more slowly, brought it down towards Kinshiro until the cold edge of the blade touched his forehead.

For a moment, all he felt was the tingle of metal barely touching his skin. Then he felt, or heard, a _crack_ , as of a sheet of ice being shattered. It was as if a dam inside him had broken, and he could feel something surging through his blood that buoyed him up like a wave. He was being burned up and remade into something new, something as strong and strange as the forces that had made the universe.

He knew who he was, then. Only a god could feel like this.

There was a soft thud. Kinshiro turned, still slightly stunned, to see that Arima had fallen to his knees in front of him.

"My lord," he blurted, wide-eyed, "forgive me! I should have recognized you..."

"There's nothing to forgive," said Kinshiro - or Aurite, as he knew himself now to be. "I didn't know it myself until just now."

It was all coming back to him now. He remembered Fate approaching him once before, not calm and reasonable as he was now, but full of cold anger that was directed at him. He had failed in his duties, and as punishment, been turned into a human and sent to live on Earth. It was supposed to teach him a lesson about mercy, and it had worked. He'd found Atsushi, and Atsushi had taught him. Only now...

Sudden hope seized him. He turned to Sulfur.

"Give me his soul," he said. "I have a right to claim it. He can come back with me to the realm of the gods."

"No," said Gora.

Aurite looked back at him. He knew now that he was among the most powerful of the gods, but none of them could stand up to Fate. He knew it would be foolishness to try. He still wasn't going to back down.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because it isn't what we planned."

Aurite scowled up at him. "Then plan something different!"

"Well, we could," said Scarlet, "but don't you want to hear what we thought of first?"

Aurite turned to regard him thoughtfully. He'd never had many dealings with Scarlet as a god - Aurite was too concerned with rigidly following the rules, and Scarlet was entirely too whimsical for his tastes - but as a bath house attendant, he'd always been a great help. He couldn't imagine him dreaming up any plans for Atsushi that wouldn't be in his best interests.

"I'm listening," he said.

 **To Be Continued...**


	7. Divine Mercy

Waking up was a laborious process. Atsushi thought he had never felt so groggy in his life, his every muscle leaden and numb, his head feeling as though it were stuffed with wet wool. Every thought was an effort. Gradually, though, he became aware that he was lying on something that was not his bed. It was very comfortable, though, definitely the softest thing he'd ever had the pleasure of lying on, and he shifted a little just to enjoy the sense of smooth fabric against his skin.

"See?" said a voice, sounding very far away. "He's moving. I told you he'd be fine."

That voice sounded familiar. Maybe, Atsushi thought, he should try to wake up and see what was going on. After a second or two, it dawned on him that perhaps the voice had been talking about him. He twitched some more, trying to haul his fragmented thoughts together. There was light shining on his eyelids, he realized, warm and golden as afternoon sunbeams, and the air he was breathing smelled of flowers, and also just a little bit like tea. That reminded him of something. Tea. Kinshiro. Arima. The bandits...

Atsushi sat up with a jolt, and nearly fell over again. He seemed to be lying in something that was less of a bed and more like a huge bowl of pillows, and they slipped and slid when he moved too suddenly.

"Hey," said the voice he'd heard before. "No need for that. It's no good to wake up so suddenly after you've been sleeping. Take it easy. You've had a hard day."

Atsushi blinked a little, taking in the scene in front of him. He was in a high-ceilinged room that appeared to be plated in, or possibly even made of, pure gold, with tall arched windows and a deep rose-colored carpet. The wall not set with windows was instead decorated with tapestries, most of them wider than the walls of the rooms in his inn, and all of them in the most vivid colors, studded liberally with what were surely jewels. However, even something so marvelous couldn't compare with the view out the windows. From where he was sitting, he could see what looked like three small suns of varying sizes and colors, and two moons, one nearly full, one crescent-shaped. Even the sky itself was strange, not the featureless blue he was used to, but a sky full of swirls of color that faded off into violet and rose or brightened into teal and silver, all of them in constant motion.

Somehow, the most astonishing thing of all was that a few yards away, a group of people were sitting around having what looked like a perfectly ordinary tea party. Atsushi blinked slowly. It was one thing to be told that tea ceremonies had sacred significance, and another to see a gaggle of gods sitting around sipping from delicate china teacups and eating finger sandwiches. They were most definitely gods - he could tell that just by looking at them. Here in this place, they weren't bothering to damp themselves down so that mortal eyes could bear looking at them, and they each had their own particular glow about them. There was Vesta with a wreath of rosy flames shimmering around him, offering a pink-iced cake to Pearlite, whose hair moved in a gentle breeze only he seemed to feel, one that carried flower petals that drifted out of nowhere and vanished again like snowflakes on warm earth. On Vesta's other side, Sulfur primly stirred honey into his tea. He was clearly in his aspect as the god of wealth and prosperity today, draped in glittering cloth of gold and so many strands of jewels and pearls that it was wonder he didn't get tangled in them, but he moved with perfect poise. Atsushi was a little surprised to see a man he recognized as the priest he'd known as En. The robes he was wearing now were no longer shabby and wrinkled, but sleek and glittering, the color of a deep blue evening sky full of stars. What was really surprising, though, was that Yumoto was also there, busily working his way through an enormous plate of cookies and looking rather smug about it. He was dressed like the other gods in a short-sleeved red robe, and the very air around him seemed to sparkle with excitement.

The only genuine human in the room seemed to be Arima, who was busily serving tea and bringing in fresh plates of snacks as if this were the most fun he'd ever had. His only sign of any discontent was that he kept glancing toward a door off to one side. Still, he found the energy to spare a glance in Atsushi's direction as he realized he was awake.

"What's going on?" Atsushi asked, a bit muzzily.

"What's going on," said Vesta, "is that we've been sitting around for the last I don't know how long waiting for you to wake up." He took a bite out of a cherry tart. "We got bored of that pretty fast, and your friend here suggested we should have some tea to pass the time, and it all kind of built from there."

En - Cerulean? - rolled his eyes.

"Will somebody help the poor guy up?" he asked the room in general. Atsushi realized at last that it had been he who had spoken earlier, announcing that he'd awakened and cautioning him not to sit up too fast.

"Why don't you?" Pearlite retorted.

"I'm tired. I've had a busy day," Cerulean complained.

Arima set aside his teapot long enough to give Atsushi a hand out of his nest. Atsushi was still feeling rather dazed, and it took him a moment to realize that someone had changed his clothes for him. He was now dressed in robes very much like what the gods were wearing, only his were a rich shade of emerald green. He touched the fabric wonderingly, marveling at the feel of silk and velvet, at the impossibly delicate embroidered borders and the wink of tiny jewels. If he'd saved every coin he made in his life, he might have been able to afford something like this, but he doubted it. He looked up at the assembled deities, suddenly wary.

"What's really going on here?" he asked suspiciously. And then, more hesitantly, "Am I dead?"

"Dead as dust," said Vesta cheerfully.

"Sorry about that," said Sulfur. At least he had the grace to sound genuinely apologetic.

Atsushi took a moment to absorb that. Now that he thought about it, he could almost remember how it had felt - the knife piercing his skin, the flood of warmth soaking into his clothes, the sinking into blackness, and then a sense of being held and protected, as if nothing could ever hurt him again...

He shook off that thought. There were more important things he needed to focus on. More important than being dead - there was a strange thought.

"Where is Kinshiro?" he asked. "Is he... does he know...?"

"Oh, he knows," said Pearlite. "You've missed rather a lot while you were sleeping."

Yumoto swallowed his bite of cookie. "He's with Big Brother. They had stuff to talk about. You want me to go get him?"

Atsushi felt something relax inside him. "Please." He still had no idea what was going on, but as long as Kinshiro was here with him, the situation couldn't be too awful.

Yumoto bounded to his feet, grabbed another cookie for the road, and sprinted for the door. Well, that would seem to explain why Arima kept looking in that direction. He was worrying about Kinshiro. There was something about that thought that tickled the back of Atsushi's mind, and he frowned, trying to make it come clear.

Then the door came open, and in came Gora and Kinshiro. It was probably only the fact that Atsushi had already undergone several shocks already that he was able to take this was some degree of calm. Somehow he was able to accept seeing the proprietor of the Kurotama surrounded by his own divine glow, carrying a golden axe casually over one shoulder. He'd always suspected that there was something a little strange about Gora. But standing beside him was... well, the man of Atsushi's dreams. There was Aurite, surrounded by his golden aura, dressed in his severe dark clothing and looking even more regal and imposing than he'd seemed in the visions. And he was also, unmistakably, Kinshiro. For a moment, Atsushi truly didn't know how to feel. A god. All this time, he'd been harboring a god, and he'd never even come close to guessing...

Then Kinshiro met his eyes, relief naked in his expression.

"Atsushi," he said. "I see you're awake. I'm glad."

"I see you got your memories back," Atsushi replied.

Kinshiro looked away, trying without success to hide embarrassment. "It's been an eventful evening."

"All this beating around the bush is getting boring," said Cerulean, cutting into what might otherwise have become an even more awkward moment. "Could someone maybe just explain to the poor guy what's going on?"

"Let's," said Gora. He caught Atsushi by one arm and Kinshiro by the other and began dragging them towards the tea party gathering. "Come on. Sit."

Atsushi found himself being practically shoved onto a sofa, and Kinshiro dropped down next to him. Gora made himself comfortable on a nearby chair, and Yumoto returned to his previously vacated seat to continue attempting to eat his weight in cookies.

"All right," said Gora, "where to begin..."

"Start by telling me why Kinshiro - why Aurite was wandering around Binan with no memories," Atsushi suggested. He was still struggling and failing to wrap his mind around this new perspective. Kinshiro was a god - not just a god, but practically the ruler of the gods - and Atsushi had been making him do the dishes and wash windows. They'd bathed together. They'd _kissed_. Was that even allowed? Well, you did hear stories about mortals and gods - according to everything Atsushi had ever heard, Vesta had been very sociable before he'd decided to get married and settle down - but none of those stories had ever been about Aurite. Aurite did not socialize.

Gora nodded. "That's a good place to begin. Aurite's job is to enforce the rules. That's what he's for - to make sure bad people get punished and good people get rewarded. It's important. Only..."

"He got a bit carried away," said Sulfur.

Atushi thought of the dreams he'd had of souls being sent off to their eternal punishment and felt a slight chill. "I believe it."

"The trouble with him is, he sees things all in black and white," Vesta opined. "No excuses, no extenuating circumstances, no second chances. You break the rules, you get punished. Nice and simple, right?"

"But it's not that simple, is it?" said Atsushi softly.

Gora shook his head. "Humans make mistakes. Sometimes they're in a situation where all their choices are bad. Sometimes they mean well and don't know any better. Sometimes they're misled by other people. The more he punished people like that, the worse their situation became, and the more desperate measures they had to take to survive, so the more things he thought they needed to be punished for..."

"And everyone makes mistakes," said Yumoto softly.

Gora nodded. "Left to his own devices, he would have destroyed the world, and felt justified every step of the way."

"But he's not like that," Atsushi began, and stopped. He was remembering how Kinshiro had been when he'd first come to the inn, screaming at an old man just for breaking a dish. He cast a look at Kinshiro, who was staring down at his hands, ignoring the teacup that Arima had reverently placed in front of him.

"Not anymore," said Yumoto.

"Thank goodness for that," Vesta piped up, and Sulfur shushed him.

"We sent him to live as a human for a while," said Yumoto. "We wanted him to know what it was like, so maybe he'd be better. And it worked!"

"Some of us weren't sure it would," Vesta admitted. "So we decided to stack the odds a bit more in his favor. That's where you came in."

"Me?" Atsushi repeated. He was still having difficulty absorbing all of this.

Kinshiro roused himself from his daze. "You were involved in leading me to him?"

The others nodded agreeably.

"I sent the storm," said Pearlite. "The one that made sure he found you."

"I sent him dreams," said Cerulean. "I figured it couldn't hurt for him to get to know you better that way."

"Sulfur and I picked him out," Vesta added. "And let me tell you, finding you someone you'd be compatible with was hard work."

"Especially someone who was fated to die in the right time span," Sulfur added.

"Someone I'd be compatible with?" Kinshiro repeated.

"Fated to die?" Atsushi repeated. "Why was it so important that I die?"

"We talked it over with him," said Vesta, pointing to Gora, "and he agreed it would do our pal here some good to have a, you know, mediating influence. Someone who'd be willing to hang out with him, keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't get carried away again. If somebody is going to have to keep him company for the rest of time, we figured it had better be someone who could get along with him."

"And it had to be someone who would die soon," said Pearlite casually. "The longer we left Aurite on earth, the worse things would get without him to enforce the rules. And you can't become a god without leaving your mortal body behind."

"We actually thought about this guy as a candidate for a while," said Vesta, jerking a thumb at Arima, who gave a little jolt of surprise. "They're not incompatible, but he's _way_ too sure Aurite's right all the time, and anyway, he's slated to live to a ripe old age. We wanted someone who could start sooner rather than later."

Atsushi frowned, trying to comprehend what he was being told. "So you're saying you want me to stay with Kinshiro - with Aurite - forever, so I can remind him to..." He trailed off. "Wait, did you say 'become a god'?"

"Congratulations!" said Yumoto. "You earned it."

Atsushi shook his head, more in disbelief than protest. "I don't understand."

"It's simple," said Gora. "We're offering you a job. You don't have to accept it. You can choose to go with Sulfur to the land of the Blessed Dead and no one will fault you, but we'd rather you stayed here. It's an important job, and you'd be good at it."

"You don't have to stay," said Aurite quietly. "You were set up for this, and I won't blame you if you don't want to have to deal with it. It would be a lot of responsibility, being a god... and staying with me forever."

"But I want to stay with you!" Atsushi blurted. He took a breath and collected himself. "I don't understand all this god business, but we promised we'd be together - that if you went, I would follow, and if I stayed, you would stay." He laughed, a little unsteadily. "This is a little further than I expected to go, but I think I can get used to it."

Aurite looked at him with hope in his eyes. "You mean that?"

Atsushi nodded. "I do."

The others looked on approvingly.

"Don't worry about a thing," said Vesta. "We'll all help you get settled in. It's the least we can do, after getting you into this mess."

"At the least, we'll keep you company," Cerulean offered. "You won't get lonely, I can promise that."

"You'll like being a god," said Pearlite. "It's much nicer than being mortal. Trust me, I know."

Atsushi couldn't help but smile. It was all starting to sink in. This place was still strange to him, but it was clear that he was at least going to be welcome and among friends. And he was going to be with someone he loved. That would make even the worst situation bearable, and he had a feeling that this place was far from the worst situation.

"In that case," said Gora, "welcome to the pantheon. From today onwards, you will be known to the world as Epinard, the god of mercy."

Vesta grinned. "And consort to Aurite. That's the good part."

Aurite blushed and avoided Atsushi's eyes. "If you'll have me. You don't have to. You could do your job even if you weren't married to me, but if you really wanted to..."

"I think I'd like that," said Atsushi.

Aurite's smile was radiant. "I would, too." A sudden sly expression crept into his eyes, and he glanced over at Arima, who had been watching the proceedings unfold with rapt fascination. "Arima, you are my servant, correct?"

"Of course, my lord," he said humbly.

"And you would do anything I asked of you?"

Arima bowed his head. "Anything in my power."

"Good," said Aurite. "Because I have a wedding coming up in the very near future, and I'm going to need a priest to conduct it..."

Judging by Arima's expression, Atsushi thought, this was going to be the only wedding he'd ever heard of where the priest conducting the ceremony was more nervous than the happy couple.

* * *

In the end, the wedding went off without a hitch. Once he'd gotten over his initial shock, Arima had thrown himself into conducting a truly beautiful ceremony. His efforts were somewhat complicated by the fact that his patron deity was one of the participants instead of merely blessing the union, but in the end, everyone agreed that he'd been entirely successful. Now the ceremony was over, and everyone had gathered for a grand wedding feast. It was, to tell the truth, a little overwhelming. Atsushi had never quite realized how many gods there were, all the way from the most powerful, who ruled entire elements or concepts, down to the ones whose domain extended only over a single tree or stone. Add in the lucky mortals who had been claimed as the eternal companions of their patron deities, and it added up to a lot of people. He still didn't quite feel he merited all the attention.

 _Well, it is my wedding,_ he told himself, as yet another person approached his table to offer congratulations. He cast a sideways glance at Aurite and smiled. He still couldn't think of himself as a god - the idea was just too big to get his mind around - but it was slowly sinking in what a wonderful piece of good fortune had come his way, to be married to someone so special.

"Can I bring you anything else?" asked a voice nearby, cutting into his thoughts.

"Nothing for me," said Aurite to Arima. The young priest had declined to join the party, saying that he desired nothing more than to be the only one permitted to wait on his lord and master. Apparently that courtesy extended now to his master's new consort as well, because he turned an anticipatory look towards Atsushi.

"You could get me another piece of cake," Atsushi offered.

Arima nodded and hurried off. Cerulean, sitting at Atsushi's left hand, roused himself from his post-dinner doze enough to open one eye and look skeptically at him.

"Do you _really_ want another piece of cake?" he asked.

Atsushi laughed. "Absolutely not!" If he were being honest, he already felt like he'd been eating for hours. Part of that was just because half the things he'd been offered were things he'd only read about in descriptions of feasts given by great kings and emperors, while the other half were things he didn't think even the kings and emperors had ever been lucky enough to try. He couldn't be blamed for wanting to sample a little of everything. The other part was that he was reasonably sure this party _had_ been going on for hours, or possibly days. He still hadn't gotten used to the way time seemed to twist and loop back on itself in this place. He was sure that there had been long pauses between each of the courses, giving the guests time to enjoy the entertainment and chat with each other, and time for Atsushi and Aurite to hold hands, steal kisses, and generally behave like the newlyweds they were.

"So why did you ask?" Cerulean persisted.

"I didn't want to disappoint him," Atsushi admitted. "He looks so let down when you tell him you don't need him for anything. Besides, maybe he'll feel like he doesn't have to do anything more if there's something on my plate."

Aurite laughed. "You are going to be so good at your job."

"That's why we picked him out for you!" said Vesta cheerfully. "Hey, for what it's worth, you've got my blessing - and my blessing on your wedding day is nothing to sneeze at."

Pearlite offered one of his self-satisfied smiles. "I have such fond memories of my own wedding day. I do hope your new husband is as good to you as my darlings were to me. You're going to have so much _fun_ learning all the things you can do now that you couldn't in a mortal body..."

Atsushi felt himself blushing brilliantly, and Aurite suddenly seemed fascinated by a speck on his empty plate.

"I'm sorry," said Sulfur to Atsushi. "We can't take him anywhere."

"We wouldn't put up with him if he wasn't cute," Vesta put in.

"You know you love me," said Pearlite serenely.

Sulfur gracefully changed the subject. "I hope you won't hold it against me, you having to die and all that. It would have happened no matter what. Even if none of this had ever happened... well, if Aurite and Arima hadn't been there helping you, you'd have been alone in your kitchen trying to deal with all those people, and you would have been tired and flustered. There would have been an accident. There was really nothing I could have done."

"It's all right," said Atsushi. "I know it wasn't your fault. Anyway, things seem to have worked out for the best."

"And they lived happily ever after!" said Scarlet cheerfully. "Hey, if you don't want that cake he's bringing, can I have it?"

"You can," Atsushi told him. "If no one minds, I'd like to go somewhere quiet for a little while. I need a break from all this noise."

Cerulean nodded, eyes closed. He had already gone back to sleep, but since he appeared perfectly capable of carrying on conversations in his sleep, that didn't seem to matter.

"We won't tell anyone where you went," he said. "Go relax."

Aurite stood up. "I'll show you the way."

The two of them slipped out of the feast hall and made their way to what proved to be a little balcony. It was higher up than Atsushi had ever been before, higher than the top of Mt. Binan, and let him look down on the whole gleaming spread of the city of the gods. Above them, he could see worlds and stars drifting by as gently as clouds. It was strange and breathtakingly beautiful, and, he supposed, it was home now. He leaned on the balustrade and gazed thoughtfully down on the golden streets and lush gardens.

"What are you thinking?" Aurite asked him.

"I was thinking, it was fun, you know? Our last day," Atsushi replied. "We did good work, and we went to the fair... it was fun. I'm glad my last day on earth was so much fun."

Aurite gave a small laugh. "Don't fool yourself. This may be the home of the gods, but we don't spend most of our time here. This is our retreat when the work gets to be too much. We'll still be spending plenty of time on earth, getting our jobs done."

Atsushi nodded, feeling a little better. It was good to know he'd be going back soon.

"But we're going to start," he said, "with going over some of those people you've already judged."

"But I..." Aurite began, and stopped. "No, you're right. I have to let you do your job." He shook his head. "This is going to take getting used to."

"It will be worth it, though, won't it, Kinshiro?" Atsushi asked, and winced. "Sorry. I guess I shouldn't call you that anymore."

"It's all right. That's my name - my real name," he replied. "'Aurite' is a title. Just like your real name is still Atsushi, even though you're also Epinard. It's like that with all of us. Pearlite is still Akoya when he's at home, Cerulean answers to En most of the time..."

Atsushi smiled. "Because it's easier to say?"

"Probably," Kinshiro agreed, smiling. "So don't feel bad. That was the one thing they couldn't make me forget - my own true name."

"That makes me feel better," Atsushi admitted. "And you're right, this is taking a lot of getting used to."

Kinshiro looked almost shy. "Is it worth it, then?"

"Absolutely," said Atsushi firmly. He took Kinshiro's hand. "Look at this. I'm here, with you, and we're going to be together forever. I can't think of anything better than that. The details can wait."

"I can't think of anything better than this, either." Kinshiro glanced back the way they had come. "Do you think the party can wait, too?"

Atsushi smiled. "It's our party. If we want to leave, who's going to stop us? Why, did you want to go somewhere else?"

"Well," said Kinshiro, cheeks flushing slightly, "I just thought, it _is_ our wedding night..."

Atsushi considered that thought and decided that on reflection, there _was_ more he could want. After all, they had Vesta's blessing.

It seemed a shame to waste it.

* * *

"...and so began the dawn of a new golden era," Arima said.

His listeners, a gaggle of bright-eyed new initiates, hung on his every word. They usually did, these days. He was something of a legend in his own time. He'd written books on the days leading up to Epinard's ascension to godhood and the subsequent founding of his faith that were well on their way to becoming holy writ to worshipers of both Epinard and Aurite. He was known as the man who had almost single-handedly introduced the world to its new god and overseen the founding of the first temple in Binan, which was no longer a sleepy little town, but a thriving city. The old inn itself was still there, lovingly preserved by Epinard's acolytes, who offered hospitality to all who passed through its doors. Arima had hung around long enough to make sure it would all run smoothly without his help before returning to his own beloved temple of Aurite, where he had ultimately served as high priest for most of his life. He'd long ago gotten used to young initiates looking at him with awe.

"That's enough for today," said one of the priests to his students. "You all have lessons to attend."

The boys and girls made disappointed noises before scrambling off. Arima remained where he was, leaning against the trunk of a tree and enjoying the late afternoon sunlight. He smiled fondly as he watched the children scamper off.

 _Ah, me. Where does the time go?_

It had been close to sixty years since the day he'd performed the most remarkable wedding of his career. Time had been kind to him since then. He moved a little more stiffly these days, and his eyesight was a bit dimmer, but most of the plagues of age touched him only lightly. He had retired from active work not long ago, instead preferring to spend his time reading, writing, and tending his own little patch of garden, which hadn't had time to do when he was still high priest. He had never married or had children, but he'd never been lonely. It was just that no mere human could ever hold his attention when he was a friend of the gods themselves.

Scarcely a week had gone by that he didn't catch a glimpse of Vesta overseeing a wedding he was performing, or turn around to see Pearlite fussily rearranging the flowers on the altar, or have a dream where he was given words of wisdom from a man who looked a lot like Cerulean, or receive a message from Sulfur saying that a parishioner was approaching the end of his life and needed someone to keep him company in his last hours. Aurite dropped in at least once a month, sometimes alone but mostly with his consort, to offer advice and encouragement and drink a few cups of tea. Even Scarlet had been known to drop in from time to time, usually when there was cake available - or perhaps he had simply arranged matters so that there would be cake when he wanted to drop in. He'd never seen Gora again - the one time he'd tried going back to the bath house, it hadn't been there, and no one remembered it had ever existed - but he was always prepared to send a basket of treats back with Scarlet whenever he turned up. Arima had long ago become accustomed to laying in extra tea and snacks, just so he could be sure there would always be some at hand when his special guests came calling. Sometimes he found himself wondering if Aurite had really become so interested in the doings of his followers, or if he just appreciated his chief priest's skill at making tea.

 _Either way, I'm happy._

He closed his eyes, settling more comfortably on the cool soft grass. It had been, he thought, a good life. He'd been busy for all of it and enjoyed most of it. Now it was nice to rest, here in the warm sunlight, surrounded by the sounds and scents of his garden. On a day like today, the sun seemed especially warm and bright, as brilliant as Aurite's own arrows, as brilliant as the light that had shone down on him the day a voice had told him, " From here on in, you will be my servant, favored by me above all other mortals." Up until then, he had been a mild man, living a life of minor troubles and small triumphs. It had only been at that moment that he'd known true joy, the thrill of devoting himself utterly to a worthy cause. There had been other great achievements, but nothing else like that first breathtaking moment of hearing his master's voice. As long as he could hold that memory close to his heart, he could die happy...

"Hey," said a familiar voice. "Look at you, lying down on the job. Did I say you could sleep?"

Arima sat up suddenly. The sunlight was still shining all around him, dazzlingly bright, but even so, he could see two figures standing in front of him wearing amused smiles. Arima relaxed a little, realizing he was being teased.

"Come on, get up," said Aurite. "It's time for you to go."

"Go?" asked Arima, already getting to his feet. It dawned on him only vaguely that it was easier to do so than it had been in a long time.

"With us," Epinard elaborated. His smile was warm. "It's time for you to come back. We've missed you."

Puzzled, Arima glanced back over his shoulder, then looked down at himself. Oh. Well, that explained a lot. It looked like he had died happy, after all.

"I'm going to be joining you, then?" he asked hopefully. That had been his greatest hope for the future - that when the time came, he wouldn't be sent to one of the underworlds, but would be permitted to remain forever in the company of the gods who had been not just his masters, but his friends.

Atushi laughed. "We'd almost have to even if we didn't want to - which we do. People are already practically worshiping you as it is. Gora didn't even blink when we asked if you could join us... but I guess he'd know if something like that was going to happen. How do you feel about 'Argent' as a title?"

Arima just stared. Nothing like that had ever crossed his mind before. He simply didn't know what to say.

"Only a minor god, of course," said Aurite matter-of-factly. "You'll still be working for me. We knew you wouldn't be happy any other way." He held out his hand. "Hurry it up. It's not doing us any good wasting time here. We have a lot of work for you to do."

And wasn't that all he'd ever really wanted - work to do for his master? Smiling, he took the offered hand, and followed them into the light.

 **The End**


End file.
